And What Appears To Be, Is Not
by Elektra101
Summary: Post'The Telling', but before the missing two years. Sloane is gone with the Rambaldi device. Irina has dropped off the map. All is well? Afraid not. And they thought Irina was the only Derevko they had to deal with...
1. The Way It Begins

Title: And What Appears To Be, Is Not

Rating: PG-13(just in case.)

Pairings: Mainly focuses on Jack/Irina, but has some Sydney/Vaughn and some other couples.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. It all belongs to someone else...

Summary: Sloane is gone with the Rambaldi device, Irina has disappeared. All is good? Afraid not. And they thought Irina was the only Derevko they had to deal with...

Must know: The two missing years don't exist here, Sark never had that meet with Allison in the episode. And remember: we know nothing of Elena nor Katya ( Katya's character doesn't change in my story, but let's pretend that Elena didn't try to destroy the world and didn't torture her sister. Let's explore that angle.)

----

Chapter 1

The night was warm and quiet. Except for a few crickets nothing was heard. A few cars drove on the streets, but otherwise it was a beautiful spring night. A dark vehicle pulled up in front of the two-story building and the two passengers faced each other.

Sydney sighed and stared at her hands, not able to look Vaughn in the eyes. "Sloane has got the device." She deliberated how to continue knowing it was still a sore subject for him. "And my mother…she…" Before she could finish her sentence Vaughn stretched out his hand a lifted her chin.

"Another day." It was all he said but it said more than hundreds of words could. Sydney wondered how could he be so accepting. Her mother had caused his father's death and Vaughn still loved her. That thought was punctuated by a light kiss from him a minute later.

"So I did it." He announced sweetly.

"Did what?" Sydney wasn't exactly aware what he had done.

"Booked the hotel." He said lightly. Sydney remembered the promised trip to Santa Barbara. She hadn't dared to hope they would actually go. It had been wishful thinking on her part.

"No, you didn't!" She exclaimed with a smile on her face.

"Yes, I did." He confirmed with a smile that told her everything was going to get better.

"You didn't:" She still couldn't grasp the concept that they would actually go on a holiday together. "Santa Barbara?" She confirmed with a full-blown smile.

"Three nights. Starting tonight. You know it was probably the greatest phone call I ever made." He didn't think he would actually do it until a few hours ago when he was on the phone with the hotel booking the royal suite for them.

"You're a genius!" She announced. Then she closed the distance between them by pulling him into a sweet kiss.

"Thanks you." He said simply. "So, after the debrief I'll come to pick you up." He confirmed.

"Okay." Sydney nodded to his idea. She started to get out of his car but then turned around. "Would you like to stay the night? I could use the company." She offered. So much had happened during the last few hours and she would love to have Vaughn's comforting presence.

Vaughn sensing Sydney's state agreed. "You have all my comfortable clothes anyway." He declared while getting out of the car. Sydney gave a small laugh and closed the car door on the passenger side.

"I'm going to keep the clothes at my place if they guarantee your often visits." She promised while watching him walk around the car and on the sidewalk next to her. He put his arm around her shoulder and sighed.

"I am too easy." He said dramatically.

"I'm not complaining." She grinned mischievously at him and then turned to unlock the door. She pushed the door open and stepped inside Vaughn close on her heels. Sydney dropped her keys on the counter and greeted Francie who was on the couch reading.

"Hey!" Francie looked up from her magazine.

"Hey," she put her magazine down. "I didn't know we had company tonight." She said a little teasingly while getting up from her comfortable position.

Vaughn squirmed a little. No matter how many great stories Sydney had told him about Francie and what she had done for her during many years, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right with the woman. But knowing that his observation would not be welcome, he had kept his mouth shut and intended to keep it shut for an undetermined time.

"You don't mind, do you?" Sydney asked smiling sheepishly. She wished she could tell Francie about her day. Scratch that, she wished that she could tell Francie about her real life. Sydney wanted to be just as honest with Francie as she was with Will. It made her despise herself that because of her, Will had to lie to Francie.

"No, no! Don't mind me." Francie smiled and moved to the kitchen.

Sydney took Vaughn by the hand and guided him to the sofa. She pushed him down and sat with her back resting against his chest. "Can you bring me my ice cream?" She yelled to Francie. She heard a faint 'sure' from her and relaxed against Vaughn's chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she sighed in content. This was just what she needed after her day.

Sydney felt a whirlwind of emotions and couldn't get her mind cleared. Everything was so confusing and made her feel helpless. Sloane had got away with the Mueler device. They still didn't know who the other double was. Her mother had escaped. Sydney felt guilty for not being able to shoot her. She chuckled at the irony that she felt that way. Normal people shouldn't feel guilty for not having the guts to shoot their mother… twice.

"What?" Vaughn asked when she felt Sydney chuckle. He was worried about her. He was scared that Sydney would meet her breaking point of no return soon. She had experienced so much loss and betrayal lately, which people don't overcome easily.

"Nothing." Sydney assured him and pulled out her mobile phone. She wanted to do something as mundane as listening to her voice messages. In the meantime Francie had come from the kitchen and handed her a spoon and coffee ice cream.

"Where's Will by the way?" Sydney asked Francie as the woman sat down. There was a flash of panic in her eyes but neither Sydney nor Vaughn noticed it.

"He said he would work late tonight. Following some lead. You know him." Francie grinned nervously. Sydney merely nodded understandingly.

Sydney put the phone by her ear and listened to her first message. It was from Director Kendall's office. She had no wish to deal with him right now.

Then the second message began from a very distraught Will. "Sydney, it's me! Listen," he began very anxiously. She could sense the trepidation from his voice. "This is going to sound insane but I just found provacillion in the bathroom and I think that…I think that… okay, just think about it. I think the double is France!"

Sydney froze for a minute. 'It couldn't be!' half of her mind screamed at her. The other half was rationalizing. It found that it made sense. She looked at Vaughn who was unaware. Still.

"Want some?" Sydney asked Francie while holding out the tub of ice cream. She plastered a fake smile on her face and excused herself with the fact that she needed to change her clothes when the woman ate a spoonful of ice cream. Francie hated coffee ice cream. She pulled Vaughn with her to her bedroom.

"That is not Francie." She managed to say before Allison Doren appeared in the doorway pointing a gun in their direction.


	2. Enemies And Relatives

**Chapter 2**

"No, I am not." Allison smirked while tightening her hold on her gun.

Vaughn's hand drifted towards his back, where his gun was. Usually he didn't carry weapons on him, but today he hadn't got home yet, so his .9 mm was still on his hip.

But Allison saw his movement. "Drop the gun." She said calmly. When he didn't she repeated her command more irritated. Exactly one second later Vaughn pulled out his gun. At the same time he pushed Sydney to her side behind her bed right out of the line of fire. He himself fired two rounds and ducked behind a small corner.

Sydney had kept a spare gun strapped under her bed ever since she became a field agent at SD-6. Not that she had expected anything to happen at home but just in case. That was what she reached for immediately, but her hand only grasped air. Sydney figured that Allison had probably taken it. Damn it.

In the meantime Allison had shot four rounds, but since both of her targets had moved, three rounds hit Sydney's mattress and one hit the floor. Then she ducked into the hallway to avoid Vaughn's bullets.

Allison realized that her chances at beating both of them here were small. So she tried to flee out of the door. She was halfway down the corridor when Sydney tackled her to the ground. They both landed on their sides facing each other. Sydney leaded on her elbow and tried to knock Allison out, but she easily deflected the effort and hit Sydney's jaw. She was dazzled for a moment, but for long enough for Allison to get up and point a gun at her.

But before Allison could pull the trigger she crumpled to the ground unconscious. Sydney saw Vaughn standing holding up the butt of his gun. When he knew for certain that Allison was knocked out, he turned his attention to Sydney. He pulled her up by gently grabbing her forearm.

"Are you okay?" He put his hands on her cheeks and looked for any visible injuries.

"I'm fine." She answered and then pulled him into a hug. After a few seconds she realized that Allison was still lying unconscious at their feet. "We need to handcuff her somewhere and then call the CIA to tell them that we've got the second double."

Vaughn started to say something but Sydney quieted him with holding up her hand. "Later," was all she said. She turned to go to fetch the handcuffs, which she kept at her room. She hoped that Allison hadn't found them.

During all the commotion the bathroom door had been pushed open a little bit. What she saw in there made her yell in shock and storm in. "Will!!"

She knelt down by the bathtub and felt for his pulse. It was weak, but steady.

Vaughn quickly handcuffed Allison and dialed 911. When he had quickly explained the situation, he hung up. Then he quickly called Jack to explain the situation. The conversation was quick, but Jack seemed very worried. When they ended the call, Vaughn went into the bathroom finding Sydney pressing a bloody material to Will's abdomen where he was stabbed. Tears were silently falling down her cheeks. Vaughn knelt besides her, firstly feeling for Will's pulse. Fortunately it was still there, but he was getting weaker every passing minute.

Vaughn looked at Sydney. Although he wanted to say something to make her feel better, he knew that nothing he'd say would actually comfort her. So he settled on taking her free hand in his and squeezing in supportively.

A couple of minutes later the ambulance arrived. Vaughn let them in and guided them to the bathroom. On the way he checked on Allison. She was still unconscious. Vaughn pulled Sydney away from the bathtub to make room for the medical team.

The paramedics were yelling commands to each other. None of which Sydney wouldn't remember later. All she would remember was Will's unconscious form in the bathtub and Vaughn's arms holding her up. And she would remember her father.

Jack rushed through the doorway. Underneath his stoic mask one could clearly see worry. When Vaughn had called him he had been driving home. He had decided to spend the evening enjoying a bottle of Black Label and thinking over the recent events: Sloane, CIA, Rambaldi, Sydney, Irina. The last was the greatest occupant in his mind.

When he had seen Vaughn's number on his phone screen he had a feeling that something had happened. When Vaughn had explained the situation he had made a U-turn that had left many angry drivers on the street waving their fists at him. Jack hadn't noticed any of them. During the drive to Sydney's apartment he had called the CIA as Vaughn had asked and filled them in on the situation.

Some minutes later he pulled up in front of Sydney's apartment building. He quickly exited his car and hurried up the steps.

"Sydney?" He called her while walking into the apartment.

When Sydney heard her father she immediately untangled herself from Vaughn's arms and walked to the hallway. Without thinking she rushed to him and hugged him fiercely. For a minute Jack was surprised but soon relaxed and held her a little tighter to his chest.

Honestly, Jack couldn't remember the last time they had hugged and he felt guilty for that. A father and a daughter should be closer than they were. A daughter should know more about his father that a CIA file said.

After a little while later Sydney pulled back and looked at him apologetically. She felt slightly foolish for hugging him like that.

"I'm sorry…" She started, but Jack interrupted.

"No reason to be." He smiled a bit. Before he could say anything else the paramedics rolled Will's gurney past them and into the ambulance vehicle.

"Where are they taking him?" Sydney asked Vaughn who had appeared behind her.

"Good Samaritan Hospital." He answered.

In the mean while the CIA had arrived. They led Allison, who had regained consciousness, out of the house and into the van in which her arms and legs were shackled. She shamelessly looked at Sydney with a slight knowing smile until the van doors closed.

Sydney felt an unexplainable chill going through her. Nothing was over yet. Everything was just beginning. The end was just beginning.

----

Half an hour later Sydney, Jack and Vaughn were in the waiting room near the OR. Will was in surgery and it would be some time before they would hear anything. There was an uncomfortable silence and Vaughn didn't know what to say to Sydney to comfort her. And being under Jack's scrutinizing stare was getting very uncomfortable.

"Sydney, I'm going to go to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. Do you want anything?" He asked gently still sitting next to her. Sydney looked slowly at him.

"Get me a coffee, too." She answered. Vaughn nodded and kissed her forehead before standing up.

"Uh, Jack? Do you want something, too?" Vaughn asked him. Jack just shook his head and Vaughn quickly exited the room.

Sydney sighed heavily, leaned back on the sofa and sighed. Although Jack wasn't a man who recognized every emotion and he wasn't great with words, he knew what his daughter was thinking.

"You know it isn't your fault?" He asked simply.

Sydney's eyes snapped open and landed on Jack who was leaning on the wall. She was surprised that her father knew that mentally she was blaming herself.

"I know, but still I feel like it's my fault." Jack just looked at her knowing she wasn't finished. She sighed and continued. "I mean if it wasn't for me Will would still be a reporter, he would still have his life, he wouldn't have been tortured and he wouldn't be on the operating table." Her speech came faster with every word. "And Francie would probably still be alive…" with that thought tears shined in her eyes.

Feeling that Sydney had said her piece, Jack started. "Yes, in some sense you are right. But you couldn't have controlled all those events. You aren't to blame here and nobody thinks you are at fault here." Sydney looked at her father and wanted to say something, but Jack continued. "You are a strong person, Sydney. And you are the kind of person people enjoy being with. I know I didn't aide you to become such a wonderful human being but I still feel responsible for your well-being. That means I have to get through your stubborn head and make you understand you are not to blame for this."

Approximately two seconds later Sydney had stood up and enveloped her father in a crushing hug for the second time that night. The tears she had earlier stopped were falling down her cheeks.

As hugs weren't common between them, Jack had been surprised again but welcomed it. He enjoyed being close to his daughter and for years he had berated himself for pushing her away. Before his line of thought could continue, he heard Sydney say four little words, which had a huge value.

"I love you, dad." Sydney didn't believe she would say those words out loud for a long time even though her relationship with her father had improved impressively over the last two years. But know when she had said them she knew they were the truth and always have been.

"I love you two, sweetheart." Jack said quietly. Sydney smiled into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

After a few minutes Sydney pulled back and smiled at Jack widely. Then she stepped back a little and looked at him. Worry masked her face.

"Dad, are you okay?" Jack hadn't had any injuries, but still Sloane had held him for quite a long time. He had drugged Jack and the doctors weren't sure with what. Although he had been let home after a check-up, Sydney wasn't sure that he was okay. For all she knew he could have threatened the doctor with physical harm if he didn't let him go home.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Jack tried to reassure Sydney. When she still wasn't looking reassured, he tried again. "The doctor said I didn't need to be at the hospital. He said I was okay and just needed a little rest." Sydney still wasn't convinced but dropped it knowing she would get nowhere continuing the subject.

Soon enough Vaughn entered the room with their coffees. He took in Jack's softened expression and Sydney's tearful eyes and realized that some father-daughter bonding had taken place. For that he was happy. He knew that Sydney and Jack's relationship wasn't the most affectionate one and was glad that they were becoming closer. Before he knew, Jack's typical stoic mask slipped back and Vaughn dropped his gaze.

An hour later a doctor in hospital scrubs entered the waiting room. All three stood up and looked at him expectantly.

"How's Will?" Sydney asked him quickly. As much as she wanted to know the answer, she dreaded it. For the past hour and a half she had had different scenarios running through her head and none of them were good.

"Mr. Tippin's surgery was a success." Everybody seemed to let out a relieved breath. "There was some sever damage to the liver, but we managed to fix it and stop the bleeding. If everything goes according to our hopes, Mr. Tippin should make full recovery." The doctor said with a smile. He always enjoyed giving good news to a patient's close ones.

"Can we see him?" Sydney asked with a relieved smile. It seemed like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"Sure. Room 147" The doctor assured. "But one at a time. He needs the rest." The doctor bowed his head slightly and walked away.

"I'm going to…" Sydney made a vague movement with her hand. Both men nodded and Sydney headed towards Will's room leaving Jack and Vaughn standing in an uncomfortable silence.

Nobody noticed a young woman in a nurse's outfit watching them through the open door and smiling slightly.

----

Some time later somewhere in Russia 

A crooked grain road led to a grand house, which stood right beside a lake. Huge firs mostly hid the house from the plain view.

The house was a two-story building. It had a grand entrance and vines were crawling up the walls. A small jetty was situated behind the house on the water's edge. The water slightly reflected he light that came from the house.

A black Sedan drove right up to the front door. The key was pulled from the ignition and the two passengers emerged from the vehicle. They walked up the three steps to the heavy oak door. The woman pulled out key and unlocked the door. She pushed the door open and both figures walked in.

Once inside the man punched in the security code on the panel next to the door. They closed the door and looked into the house. It wasn't a huge house, but a beautiful one. From the front door one could see half of the living room and the hallway. The walls were painted burgundy and on them hung quite expensive paintings.

"Lucy, I'm home!" The man yelled with his most satirical voice. The woman giggled a little and hit his shoulder gently. They heard a faint sound from the kitchen and headed towards it. On the way there they crossed the living room. They shrugged off their coats and threw them on the couch.

Once they reached the kitchen they saw a woman cooking. She had long chocolate brown hair, which was currently braided. She had a slender and toned figure and surely she could take somebody out with the knife she was copping the vegetables with.

"You are hilarious." She said sarcastically while looking up at the two intruders.

"Yeah, I could be a stand-up comedian." The man said waggling his eyebrows.

In the mean time the young woman had sidled up to the older woman and looked into the pots and pans on the stove.

"Wow, aunt Irina, I didn't know you could cook." She said with a serious face while looking at Irina. The latter turned her full form towards the woman still holding the knife in her right hand.

"Alex…" she said warningly, but there was a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "Are you insulting my cooking skills?" She asked half amused.

"To insult them one should have them." The man said from the other side of the counter with a cocky smile.

"Julian Jurjevitš Derevko!" Irina said with a high-pitched voice and turned to face the man fully.

"Just kidding," Julian soothed her and held both of his hands up as a gesture of an apology while slightly shaking with laughter. But Irina couldn't keep the smile off her face this time.

"What kind of a nephew do I have?" She asked out loud in a huff of exasperation.

"One of a kind." Julian said taking a carrot from the counter and moving towards the doorway. "One of a kind."


	3. The Family Gathers

**Chapter 3**

"One of a kind." Julian said taking a carrot from the counter and moving towards the doorway. "One of a kind."

Irina shook her head in amusement and turned her attention back to the vegetables.

"I'm going to call Sara." Julian said in Russian and walked out the kitchen.

Alex's eyes narrowed slightly and she let out a sigh of mock-disgust. "Like a love-sick puppy." She commented also in Russian. Her eyes were still glued to the spot Julian had been standing.

"They're in love. It's sweet." Irina admonished in the same language. Alex smiled and ducked her head.

"I know. Doesn't mean I can't tease him about it." She smiled gleefully. "Anyway, need any help?" She asked Irina.

"Sure." Irina answered. "And you can tell me what you two found out in L.A." she looked pointedly at Alex who was pulling back her long dark hair. Alex smiled inwardly knowing what Irina wanted to know: Jack and Sydney. Irina wasn't happy that she needed to escape before checking on them, but the situation had demanded it. But before she could talk about the two, she needed to inform her of other facts.

"The second double was revealed." Alex said leaning on the counter. Irina looked sharply at her. "You were right. Sloane replaced Francie Calfo."

Irina swore silently. Although she and Sloane had made a deal, he didn't trust her enough to tell her all his plans. When he had extracted her, he had told her that he had placed someone near Sydney and Jack. It had got Irina weeks to make Sloane tell her how, but he refused to tell her who. He had told her that Irina's ties to Jack and Sydney would have made her soft enough to tell them who the double was. She had told him that if they were partners and they needed to trust each other.

Although Irina had tried to make him see that her ties to Sydney and Jack weren't an issue, he wasn't lenient. The identity of the second double had been a well-kept secret. He hadn't even told Sark the identity of the second double even though Sark had been communicating with Allison. They had connected each other with modified voice changing cell phones supplied by Sloane and despite Irina's efforts she hadn't discovered the double's real identity. She had had her suspicions but she couldn't have acted on them.

Irina smiled as she heard 'Sark' in the other room. "… No, of course it wasn't dangerous, darling…" Neither Sloane nor the CIA had figured out that Mr. Sark's real identity was Julian Derevko. Irina had asked his help when she needed someone to control her assets and run her operations while she was in CIA custody. Actually Katya and Elena had done most of the managing but to the CIA it seemed that Sark had taken full control.

When Irina had came up with her plan, Elena and Katya had thought she had finally gone off the deep end. But when Irina had explained her ideas and the fact that it was the only possibility to free everybody from Rambaldi's visions, her older sisters had agreed to help her with her plan. It involved all five of them. While Katya and Elena had been controlling Irina's assets, they had been regrouping their subordinates and contacts. Julian had infiltrated SD-6, kept an eye on Sloane, Jack and Sydney. Alex had been observing Irina in CIA custody and overseen that there were no problems that would endanger their goal.

"Sydney and Vaughn arrested her at Sydney's apartment." Alex continued while washing her hands. "But not before she had stabbed Will Tippin."

Irina sighed heavily. This was not how she had planned all of this. She had wanted as little people to get hurt in this as possible, especially people close to Sydney and Jack.

When Sloane had told her that he would hand over all his Rambaldi possessions, she had thought that their fight would end quickly but when Emily had died, events had taken a turn. Sloane's priorities had changed and forced Irina's plans to change with them. He had become more reckless and unpredictable.

"Tippin is recovering in the hospital right now. They had saved him just in time. I looked over his records. He should be physically okay. Sydney is very emotional right now, but otherwise okay." Alex paused. "Although they were well protected, I got access to Jack's medical records." Alex said with a hint of pride. "He is generally okay, but I think the doctors would have liked to keep him in a hospital for one night."

"Jack hates hospitals. Unless he is unconscious, he would never agree to stay in a hospital." Irina retorted. She remembered that well. No matter how injured Jack had been, he had always come home after a mission.

"Then he probably held the doctor at gunpoint when he cleared him." Alex tossed over her shoulder. "There is one more thing you should know." Irina looked at her and raised her eyebrow. "Seems like Jack and Sydney did some father-daughter bonding. They were hugging and smiling at each other." Irina's smile held a hint of bitterness. Although she was genuinely happy that they were becoming closer and more like a family, she wanted to be a part of that. She wanted to be there.

"That's all I could gather." Alex finished her little speech. "Oh, one more thing. If Kendall had hair, they would be a lot grayer thanks to your tricks. He wasn't happy when he realized that you had disappeared. And the fact that Julian was broken out of CIA custody during transfer nearly made his head blow up." Irina grinned at that. Kendall was one of those people she loved to infuriate, just because she could. "Sadly it didn't." Alex added with a mock-sad tone. In her opinion the FBI assistant director was fun to mess with.

"So, I gather from this cooking that mom and aunt Katya are coming, too." Alex said changing the subject.

"Both should arrive within two hours. We have some information to change and plans to fully form. Since Sloane has disappeared, our plans have to be modified." Irina said. "Sloane doesn't trust me anymore, since I betrayed him."

"Does he think Julian is with you?" Alex prompted.

"I don't think that Sloane has caught onto the 'Sark' issue. It appears to me that Sloane believes that Sark and I have parted ways."

"So that means that he could still align with him. Julian could still get into the inner circles." Alex felt hope that all was not lost yet.

"I was still thinking the same." Irina said while putting the chopped vegetables into boiling water. "Sloane thinks that Sark has his own agenda and as far it doesn't disturb his, he probably wants Sark's help." She finished. Alex nodded to the idea. If they played their cards correctly, they could still win and defeat both Sloane and Rambaldi.

"If you don't need any help here, I'm going to go upstairs and change my clothes." Alex asked Irina. Irina nodded saying she had everything covered.

But being Alexandra Nikita Derevko, she wanted to have fun a little.

"But one thing I still don't understand." Irina looked at her expectantly. "How the CIA didn't realize how Jack implanted the passive transmitter? I think it's good that they didn't. He would go to jail if they knew. Actually, for some acts he would get the death penalty." Alex smiled innocently and Irina who was looking at her incredulously. But before she would throw something at her, Alex ducked out of the kitchen laughing.

Irina watched Alex leave in dismay. Alex had inherited the skill to meddle into others' lives from her mother and aunt. No matter how hard somebody would try to hide something, Alex would find out. She had once said it was a skill. Irina had retorted that it was a curse.

Irina turned her attention back to the food. It was no use thinking about neither Panama nor Jack. But Alex was right; the third act was illegal in some countries. A wide smile spread over Irina's face but she wiped it off quickly. It wasn't the time to think neither about that nor about the following acts.

An hour later most of the food was done and Irina had finished washing the dishes. She heard the front door slam and steps throughout the house. A few seconds later a woman with short black hair walked in. She scanned the kitchen with her eyes and smiled slightly.

"Hello, Katya." Irina smiled and moved around the counter to hug her sister.

"Hello, sister." Katya retorted while returning the hug. "You've been cooking, I see." She noted. "And the house is still standing." She mocked. Irina hit her arm and sighed dramatically.

"Why does everyone seem to think I can't cook without burning down the house?"

"Because, last time you said you would cook, the house blew up." Katya said. Irina rolled her eyes, but before she could defend herself, Alex walked through the door.

"Aunt Katya!" she said cheerfully and hugged her. "When did you arrive?" Alex asked while Katya sat down on a stool.

"Just now. Elena's not here yet?" Katya asked them both.

"Not yet." Irina answered.

"I'm going to tell Julian you're here." Alex walked out the door leaving the two sisters alone. She sensed that they needed to talk.

"Tell me what happened in Mexico City." Katya demanded softly. Being Irina's sister she always knew when something was wrong with her. This was one of the times.

"Sloane got away, CIA saved Jack and Sydney pointed a gun at me. That was all before I jumped off a forty-story building with a bungee cord." Irina listed the events emotionlessly. When Katya kept her gaze on her, she asked a little impatiently. "What more do you want?"

"What do you want?" Katya shot back calmly.

"Right now I want to get really drunk and forget that once again Jack and Sydney think that I betrayed them." Irina punctuated her fact with stabbing a knife into the wood counter. It was visible that she was frustrated, angry and on the edge. What wasn't visible was the fact that Irina was also heart-broken because of the reason she had just verbalized. But still Katya could see that. Ever since they were children, the three sisters could see through each other's masks and realize their feelings. Sometimes it was angering, sometimes comforting.

"I think it is manageable." Katya said simply, referring to the getting drunk part. She knew that Irina's second wish couldn't easily be fulfilled. Then she pulled the knife out. "But lets not damage anything right now. Alex is still angry with us for stabbing her mahogany dresser two months ago."

Both sisters remembered the fight between them when Irina had escaped CIA custody. It had started out of nothing but soon escalated into a full-blown fight. Both were frustrated and lived it out on each other. Katya had finally told Irina that getting involved with Jack would only bring Irina trouble. The latter had told her to stay out of it. During the fight a knife had flown through air and embedded itself right into Alex's dresser. To be vague: she had not been happy. Her rampage had ended their fight.

Later that night Irina and Katya had apologized to each other. Of course without actual words, but Irina had understood where Katya was coming from. When they had reached a mutual agreement, Elena had brought out quite a number of bottles of vodka. They had sat on the living room floor with their backs against the sofa, emptied the bottles and talked about everything they could think of.

Without the two sisters noticing a figure had leaned on the threshold of the doorway. Katya and Irina heard an amused voice.

"Who should I kill for letting Irina cook?"


	4. Friends and Liars

So, kiddies, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

----

**Chapter 4**

"Who should I kill for letting Irina cook?" 

Both sisters turned their gazes on the intruder.

"Hello, Elena." Irina said rolling her eyes. She was getting quite annoyed with the fact that nobody believed that she could cook. It was a constant joke in the family that began a few years ago.

There had been another family meeting. Irina had been the first to arrive and in an attempt to soothe her growling stomach, she had started to make a light meal. From the minute she had walked in the door she had had a nagging voice in the back of her head telling her that something was wrong. About two minutes later, she had found a bomb in the house. Figuring there were others, she had bolted out of the house. When she had been about 50 yards from the house, the bomb exploded, making the five other bombs, which were hidden in the house, explode as well. When Irina had told the other members of the family of what had happened, they had jokingly said that Irina's cooking made the house blow up. They had never let her forget that.

"Good to see you, Irina." Elena said while they exchanged a hug.

"Katya," Elena said simply and hugged her other younger sister, who greeted her the same way.

"I'm assuming that we need to plan our further actions." Elena said eyeing her two sisters. She took off her coat and sat on one of the stools.

"Yes, Sloane doesn't trust me and is gone with the Rambaldi artefacts." Irina filled her in on the latest events.

"Then we need to get them back." Elena's tone held no room for disagreement. As if the other two didn't agree with her. Before any of them could say anything else, a cheerful voice filled the kitchen.

"Mama!" Alex exclaimed happily from the doorway. She hugged her mother, happy to see her again. Meetings like this were quite rare, due to the reason that most of the family was on most wanted lists all over the world.

"Hello, Alex." Elena smiled. "I trust you haven't got yourself into trouble." She said in an amused tone.

"Me? Trouble? Why on earth would you think that?" She said in her most innocent tone. The three sisters rolled their eyes silently at her antics. Trouble was the one thing Alex had no trouble finding, no matter what part of the world she was located in.

By that time, Julian had finally torn himself from the phone and joined the women in the kitchen. After giving his mother a hug, he changed the topic about Sloane to a more pleasurable one.

"Are we going to stand here or eat?" He asked raising an eyebrow. All five came to life, as the prospect of having dinner together was heart-warming. They tried to forget that one person, or more, were missing from this picture.

----

Good Samaritan Hospital, Will's room 

When Sydney first walked into the room, she barely noticed Will behind all the equipment that was keeping him alive. The heart monitor, the IV line, the drain tubes, the blood pressure monitor, and a thousand more monitors were all surrounding him. She saw a crash cart in the corner of the room, but she quickly took her eyes off of it, convincing herself that he didn't need it.

Sydney walked quietly to Will's beside. The nurse had told her that Will would be asleep for quite some time, but warned her to be quiet. She sat down on the chair next to the bed and took Will's hand in hers. The skin around the IV line had turned a little purple, but otherwise he was looking pale. Ghostly pale would rather fit the description. Within twenty second Sydney felt guilty for Will's condition.

Sydney was the kind of person, who felt guilty when something went wrong with people in her lives. She knew that sometimes it was irrational, but she couldn't do anything about it. It was engraved into her being that she cared too much. Rationally she knew that she couldn't help everybody, but when she saw something wrong, she felt that she had to fix it. It had been like that ever since she was in kindergarten. That quality in her brought her a lot of unnecessary pain, but still she kept it on.

Vaughn had once said that the way she feels about other people and helping them, was one of the reasons he loved her. He had told her that it was a part of her and she shouldn't change her being. He had also told her that it was okay to feel for her mother. Sydney knew that she shouldn't feel guilty for letting her escape that night, but she felt responsible. She also felt responsible for the fact that Will was lying in this bed, no matter what Vaughn or her father said. The rational side of her continued to remind her that she wasn't at fault here. The nagging voice in her head said otherwise.

She kept thinking that if she had watched Francie more closely and been a better friend, she had noticed the difference in her behaviour. She was blaming herself for not realizing the personality change her friend went through. Now looking back she could clearly remember the things that had changed dramatically. Vaughn's tie for an example. Francie would have never done something like that. But at that time Sydney had chalked it up to her new relationship with Will.

Sydney remembered now a lot of other changes within Francie as well. She hadn't been the same vibrant friend she had had before. Francie had been more held back. Sydney had thought that the distance between the two friends was because of Francie's new restaurant. She had thought that when things slowed down with it, things would go back as they were before. That would never happen now.

Sydney didn't know how to explain things to Will. He had realized that Francie was the other double, but that was all he knew. How could she tell him that their best friend was dead? How could she tell him that his girlfriend was dead? How could she break his heart? Sydney felt more depressed with every passing minute. She knew she had to be the one to talk to Will about Allison, but she didn't want to be the one to tell him that the last few months had been a lie. But Sydney knew that they would come out of this together. After all, they were friends.

After a few minutes Sydney noticed that she had overstayed her time in the room. She wished that she could stay here, but she knew that it wouldn't be good for anyone. She stood up and pushed the chair back a little, so that the nurses could check Will's heart monitor without tripping over the chair. Then she leaned down and kissed Will's forehead. And very quietly she whispered six little words, with what she actually tried to convince herself.

"It is going to be okay." And then she left the room.

----

CIA Headquarters, the next early morning 

If Jack Bristow were an easily amused man, he would find it funny, or at least humorous, that Allison Doren was kept in the same glass holding call that for ten months had been home for Irina Derevko and, for a day, Julian Sark. But Jack found nothing laughable in the situation, so he watched stoically the screen that showed the cell as four armed guards entered it and shackled Allison to take her to the interrogation room. For a moment, so brief that Jack wasn't sure it had happened, Allison looked into the camera and smirked as if she knew she was being watched.

Jack felt sorry for Francie Calfo, who didn't deserve her destiny. He knew the statistics: it was 99 sure that she was dead and had been for some time. But for Sydney's sake he hoped for once that the statistics were wrong. Jack remembered the vibrant young woman, who had asked his opinion in decorating her restaurant. He didn't remember what he exactly answered, but he remembered thinking that Sydney was lucky to have such a friend.

"Do you think she'll talk to us?" Jack looked at Kendall, who had stood next to him in front of the screen that showed the movements in the glass cage.

"She might talk but she probably won't tell us anything." Jack said cryptically after turning his attention back to the screen. The guards were just leading Allison out of the cell.

Kendall, being used to Jack's answerers, understood what the man had meant. Allison would probably tell them nothing useful. But that didn't mean that they weren't going to try to make her talk.

"Whenever you're ready." Kendall said. Jack looked at him without any trace of understanding the joke.

"Let's go." Jack simply said and started walking towards the interrogation room. Kendall followed him and mentally prepared himself for what was yet to come.

Across the room Dixon saw them walking away. He started after them, knowing where they were headed. He knew he couldn't be a part of the interrogation, because of personal attachments, as doctor Barnett had gently put it during their last talk. But that didn't mean he couldn't observe from the next room thought the two-way mirror. He had only taken a few steps when he was stopped by a figure standing in front of him.

"Agent Vaughn?" He questioned slight irritation in his voice.

"You know you can't go in there." Vaughn stated seriously.

"And I'm not going in there." Dixon said calmly.

"It wouldn't be wise for you to observe the interrogation." Vaughn continued.

"With all my respect, agent Vaughn," Dixon said through clenched teeth. "You are not the person to judge my actions."

"I am aware of that. But, as a friend, I must stop you from going in there. It will only make things worse." Vaughn explained.

Dixon was ready to retort, but then decided not to. He sighed heavily and acknowledged what the younger agent had just said. Vaughn was right and Dixon realized that, but the masochistic part of him wanted to see that interrogation.

"Dixon," Vaughn looked at the man apologetically. "Go home and be with your children today. It would be good for you." Dixon could only hear friendliness in his voice.

"No, I need to… " Dixon started, but didn't get to say anything further, as Vaughn interrupted.

"No, you don't." He said warmly but sternly. "Go." He requested again. Dixon nodded and turned towards his table to get his things. After a few steps he stopped and turned around.

"Agent Vaughn," He called out formally due to the environment they were in. Vaughn whipped his head towards Dixon and waited for him to talk. "You're a good agent." Dixon paused. "And a good person. Sydney's lucky to have you." Having said his piece, Dixon turned again and collected his things.

Vaughn looked at him in astonishment as Dixon headed towards the exit. He had expected an argument from Dixon, not a compliment on his personality. Then he smiled as he realized that Dixon had approved his and Sydney's relationship. Rationally, Vaughn knew that they didn't need anyone's approval, but it was good to know that Sydney's close one's had no problems with their relationship. If he could only get Jack to approve their relationship. He snorted slightly at that thought but then stopped in horror as he realized that Irina had seemed very supportive of their relationship. Who would have ever thought that the approval would come from the international terrorist mother, not from the CIA high-ranking agent father?

Vaughn shook his head of those thoughts. It was not wise for him to try to understand the inner workings of Irina Derevko's and Jack Bristow's minds. The thought of that made him shudder lightly. To diverse from the trail of thought, he walked towards the interrogation rooms. He wanted to know what Allison Doren had to say.

----

Somewhere in Russia, late night 

"Basically, Sloane wants you dead." Katya said sitting down on the sofa in the den. Irina glared at her sister.

"I didn't say that." Irina retorted. She had told them the full story of what had happened during the last months that had led to the situation. Julian had contributed to the story of happenings Irina wasn't present at. Katya had shortened the story to one sentence that probably was true. But Irina enjoyed the verbal sparring between them, so she argued slightly.

"You told the CIA where to find the Rambaldi artefacts. When they weren't there, you told them that Julian knows where Sloane is. He sees that you betrayed him. He wants you dead." Katya concluded. She knew what Irina was doing and went along with it as she enjoyed it as well as Irina did.

Elena refrained herself from rolling her eyes. She was used to their slight bickering and it rolled off her, but still it was amusing to her. All sisters, although lead string pullers in the crime world, were still sisters. That meant bickering and useless fights, but also unconditional support from each other. That was the side of the Derevko family no one from outside would never see.

"But doesn't Sloane see Julian as an enemy also?" Alex asked also smiling at the light banter between her two aunts. "I mean he did give the CIA Sloane's location and the security codes." She explained further.

"Sloane knows that Sark's loyalties are flexible." Irina answered. "He probably thinks that although he gave away information, Sark is on Sloane's side and willing to play."

"If I return to him with something valuable to him, he will probably trust me again enough to work with me." Julian offered. He sat on the desk behind which Irina was sitting.

"What do you mean by very valuable?" Katya questioned her son.

"Intelligence info?" Julian asked.

"How about Rambaldi. I mean the troll would jump at anything in connection with the dead prophet." Alex suggested.

"That should spark his interest." Elena agreed.

"Any animal can be caught with the right bait." Alex said wistfully.

"How poetic." Julian mocked half-heartedly. Alex narrowed her eyes and bounced the apple she was holding slightly on her hand. Then with a quick flick of a wrist she sent it flying towards his head. Before the apple could reach it's mark, Julian caught it with his right hand with ease.

"Thanks." He quipped and bit into the apple. Alex threw his a look that could freeze hell over.

"Aunt Katya, can I kill your son?" Alex asked with a tone of voice as even as if she had asked something as mundane as the weather.

"Not today," Katya answered patting her niece on the arm.

"Anyway," Irina said a little louder than necessary to bring them back to the topic. "What do you mean by something by Rambaldi? An artefact?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "There are probably quite a few Rambaldi artefacts all over the world. All well hidden. We can make him think that Julian is in possession of one of those." She elaborated.

"But what he receives is a forgery?" Irina voiced her train of thoughts.

"Exactly." Alex smiled.

Before they could continue the quirky family talk, Irina's self-phone rang. All five pairs of eyes turned to it. Irina grabbed the phone off the table, flipped it open and raised the receiver to her ear.

"What?" She asked with a hint of impatience.

"My, my, Irina. So friendly." She could practically hear the other person smirking on the other end.

"Hello, Arthur," Irina's voice gained a big amount of warmth as she greeted the person on the other side of the connection.

"That's better." Arthur smile carried through his voice.

"Did you just call to give me a lecture in manners or was there an another reason for the call?" She asked with humour colouring her voice.

"The last thing you need is a lecture in manners." He laughed. "But there was a reason I called." He concluded.

"Really?" Irina straightened her back slightly.

"Yes. You said I should call you when I find something interesting." Arthur said.

"Interesting is a relative term." Irina answered cryptically.

"Yes, it is. But is Rambaldi interesting in a good or a bad way?"

"What did you find?" Irina asked.

"I hear that the Rambaldi device has been assembled." Arthur said in a low tone, not answering Irina's question. "By Arvin Sloane." His voice dropped onto menacing depths.

"Yes." Irina answered giving nothing away.

"I have known you for years, so I realize that you will tell me nothing. I'm not even going to try to guess your actions, because, honestly, I will just drive myself crazy with that. And I wouldn't insult you that way." Arthur continued. "But I hope you know exactly what you are doing and that you are careful."

"I always have something up my sleeve, Arthur." Irina said smiling.

"But right now, you don't have to worry about the Rambaldi device."

"Why not?" The confidence in her friend's voice made her curious about his recent growth of knowledge.

"Because it doesn't work." He said calmly.


	5. Plans And Memories

**Chapter 5** Russia 

"What makes you say that?" Irina asked with an interested tone. She knew that Arthur wouldn't lie to her, but she had to be sure what he meant before letting herself feel hopeful.

"I looked over the Rambaldi manuscripts you gave me." Arthur said. When Irina had escaped CIA custody, she had taken the manuscripts with her. She had given them to Sloane to prove that she wanted to be his partner. Within a week she had a perfect counterfeit made and switched them with the real ones. Sloane had never suspected a thing. She knew that the real manuscripts had some secrets within them, which they hadn't discovered yet. Secrets Irina was sure she didn't want Sloane to figure out. Secrets that would help to destroy the Rambaldi myth.

For a fleeting moment after switching the manuscripts Irina had had an overwhelming desire to burn the manuscripts. But she knew she couldn't because the only way to destroy Rambaldi's visions and the threats it had over Sydney's and others' lives was to beat the prophet in his own game. The machine had to be assembled and working, only then it could be destroyed with the manuscripts. That was the only way to end Rambaldi's affect on the world.

But after weeks of learning the manuscripts, there was only one thing Irina was certain of: she was disgusted. She had read the madness of a dead man, who was once a great architect. Irina realized that in order to stop Sloane from completing Rambaldi's endgame, she had to enlist a friend's help. So, she had called Arthur and asked him to help her out. He had agreed and Irina had given him the manuscripts.

If it had been any other person offering him something related to Rambaldi, he would have declined. Arthur had once been a Rambaldi follower. He had had beliefs that Rambaldi's ways of improving the world were noble. He had given himself completely to the works of the prophet. But eventually he had realized that Rambaldi hadn't believed in equality or in peaceful cohabitation of races. The 15th century architect had seen world's destruction as a cleansing process, which, in his mind, was inevitable. Arthur had then decided that he wanted nothing more to do with that. He had left the other 'believers', removed the Rambaldi mark from his hand and became a teacher. Now he had a wife and two children. And he no longer saw the magic in Rambaldi as he had seen before. Arthur knew Rambaldi's followers had to be stopped, especially Arvin Sloane. That was the only reason he had accepted the manuscripts from Irina. He knew that once Irina had been keenly interested in Rambaldi, but she had came to the same conclusion as he had: some things are not meant to be discovered.

"And I presume you found something interesting?" Irina inquired using his words.

"Yes, I did. Guess on what page." Arthur asked rhetorically.

"47." Irina said without any surprise in her voice. "But why did you say that the machine isn't working. I know Sloane had accomplished in starting it."

"He may have started the machine, but it won't work without a certain something." Arthur answered. "To be more exact, six certain somethings."

"Which are?" Irina asked.

"Opals. The manuscript had it encoded it within the text." Arthur explained. "The reason, why you couldn't find it, is simple. The cipher key was only known in the community I was once a part of."

"I assume that the opals aren't just any opals." Irina decided not to touch the issue of Arthur's past. She knew it was uncomfortable for him and never mentioned it. He had kindly returned the favour.

"No, but I think I can find the location of those opals from the manuscripts." He assured her.

"I have every belief in you." Irina smiled.

"I just have one condition." Arthur said.

"What is it?" Irina asked bemused.

"His visions will never come to life." He said gravely.

"That's what I am trying to achieve." Irina said. She had figured Arthur would say something similar to his request, because he completely shared her point of view: Rambaldi's ramblings should stay in the past.

"I'll call you when I know more."

"Thank you, Arthur." She said.

"You're welcome. Good bye."

Irina bid her good-byes and closed her cell. She leaned back with relief fighting for domination on her face. She knew Arthur would find everything what needed from the pages of the manuscripts. But when she backtracked the conversation, she discovered something. He had said that he had found the information from the text. That meant with the proper help, Sloane could find it also. The knowledge that it would take Sloane some time to find the community, as it was a well-kept secret, made her slightly more relaxed. She knew she had an edge, but it would only last for so long.

"I think we have a bargaining tool." She announced when she saw the inquiring looks from the other Derevko's in the room. As if on cue all raised their eyebrows. Irina told them what Arthur informed her of. The next hour went by as all five went through different scenarios of what might come next. They decided on what all of them will do and what they must accomplish. They knew that they were running out of time and had to hurry.

After discussing their next movements well into the night, they decided to rest. After Alex and Julian had left for bed, Katya asked if Irina still wanted to ravish the liquor cabinet, but Irina's answer surprised them.

"You know, I think I'll pass tonight." Irina answered and without waiting and answer she bid the good night and left the room, leaving two dumb-founded sisters staring after her.

"She looks content." Katya stated with confusion in her voice.

"Yes, she does." Elena agreed. "She knows what to do now and she has her sight fixed again." Elena had long ago figured out that her youngest sister was vulnerable only then when she didn't have a plan, which luckily happened very rarely. Irina always had a plan, no matter what.

"I'm worried about her." Katya said looking at Elena.

"I know, but if you act on it, she'll make sure you can never walk again." Elena said. "Remember last time." She reminded her sister of the last time Katya tried to interfere with Irina's life.

"The bruises faded eventually." Katya remarked offhandedly. Elena smiled a bit and stood up.

"Come on, Katyuša. Let's go to bed. You must get your beauty sleep."

"Are you hinting that I'm old? Who is the oldest of us?" Katya tossed. They eyed each other for a short period and then started laughing.

"I'll retire, when all of this is over." Elena said teasingly after repressing their laughter.

"Maybe I will, too." Katya agreed. "I'll retire on a small tropical island. Drinks served by tanned shirtless men do sound better than being shot at in Siberia." She waggled her eyebrows a little.

"You never change." Elena stated. Both sisters walked out of the den and headed upstairs for a well-deserved rest.

After adjourning to their respectable bedrooms the house was engulfed in silence. It was about 3 AM when Irina woke. She didn't know what had woken her, but when she listened carefully, she couldn't make out any sounds. Knowing she wouldn't fall asleep instantly again, although she had only slept for two hours, she headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

Katya and Elena had been partly right. Irina was content, but not truly happy. Sometimes she wondered even if she knew how to be truly happy anymore. People, who had heard of Irina in the arena of crime thought that power made her happy and that was the idea they had to have. That was the idea Irina put in their heads, because no one could know the fact that a whole family would make her happy. Nobody could know that because it was the one weakness she had and that could be used against her. She had promised herself that they would never be used against her again. Irina Derevko couldn't afford to be vulnerable, not in front of the world.

Twenty years ago, in Kashmir, they found out Irina's weakness: the wish to be with Jack and Sydney again. And they used it against her in an effort to break her. The interrogators found that out on her fifth month in prison. Irina could stand physical pain, cold, hunger and other ways of torture they could think of, but one thing that brought tears to her eyes was when they had told her that Jack and Sydney were dead. The tears hadn't fallen, but they had been noticed and from that moment they knew the key to break the ever-strong Irina Derevko.

And they used it repeatedly. For four month, not a day went by without them telling her that Jack and Sydney were dead. Irina knew that if she had been there long enough, she would have started to believe it and they would have broken her. But before that happened, she was broken out of there.

When she had got out, the first thing she did, was checking on Jack and Sydney. When she was certain they were all right, she allowed her sisters to hide her until she recovered. But those months didn't leave Irina unwavering. They gave the base to the Rambaldi obsession. When the obsession nearly killed her, she had realized that she couldn't live like that. After learning that her daughter might be the woman Rambaldi spoke about, she took everything she had learned and started her organization. Her purpose for the organisation was to collect the Rambaldi artefacts and destroy them.

Sydney hadn't been the only one the Rambaldi followers had thought to be the prophesised woman. Some thought that it was Irina herself, and some thought it was Alex, because the resemblance between the women in the family was noticeable. The idea that Alex was in the prophecy cost her more than she had feared. Now she was fighting just as strongly to stop the madness.

After a minute Irina had a glass of water in her hand and headed to her bedroom again, when she heard a melody being played on a piano. She realized what had woken her. Knowing who was playing, she headed towards the basement.

As she ascended the stairs to the basement she heard the piano growing louder. Irina saw that the door was slightly open. When she reached the door she pushed the door open wider and looked at the person who was playing. Fingers ran over the ivory keys with precision and confidence. Every stroke was calculated and in harmony with the previous and the next. The player was engrossed in their movements that the audience wasn't noticed before the song ended.

"Why do I have a feeling that it wasn't a part of Mozart's creations?" Irina commented softly smiling. The person behind the piano turned swiftly towards her and smirked a little.

"Comes out that not all pieces of pop music is terrible." She got an over-dramatic answer.

"Couldn't sleep, Alex?" Irina pushed herself off the threshold and sat on the piano stool next to the woman.

"No, I'm sleep-playing." She retorted sarcastically. Irina's look didn't waver from Alex. She sighed and dropped her head. "My thoughts wouldn't leave me alone."

"I know that feeling." Irina comforted.

"Do you think it'll work?" Alex asked without missing a beat. Irina wasn't surprised at the sudden question. Alex had the tendency to ask questions out of the blue in the middle of a conversation or in the middle of a long silence.

"What do you mean?" Irina wasn't sure what her niece was pointing at, although she had a vague idea.

"All of this." Alex continued to stare at the piano keys, not really seeing them. "We are planning and plotting and so on, but will we succeed? Right now it seems that we are trying for impossible." Alex said in a defeated tone.

"Does late hours always make you this fatalistic?" Irina tried to lighten the mood. To be honest, she had wondered the same thing for some time now. Sometimes it seemed to her that she was reaching for the moon. Alex kept staring at the piano. "I honestly don't know what we will achieve something. I hope we will, but nothing in this world is certain."

"The famous last words." Alex said without any trace of humour in her voice.

"What's really bothering you?" Irina asked Alex. She knew that her niece never lost her sleep worrying over missions or even plans to stop a megalomaniac. Growing up in a family like theirs made her immune to events like that. It had to be something else that made Alex stay up at night. Irina had a pretty good idea what it was.

"In two weeks it will be the 5th of June." Alex said quietly looking at the piano keys, but not really seeing them. Irina looked at her niece, who was being sucked into the past. "And even after seven years I'm afraid of a date. That's pathetic, isn't it?" She asked, in the same time feeling smaller every passing second. The mood her niece was in didn't surprise Irina. She learned that during the day Alex could be energetic and sociable, but after the night fell, her mood sometimes darkened. It hadn't always been that way. Alex used to be the most cheerful person she knew, but seven years ago that changed. During the following years Alex's old persona had never truly returned and probably never would, which saddened Irina.

"No, it's not." Irina urged. "It's natural that it still hurts." She moved closer to Alex so that their shoulders were touching. Irina knew that Alex didn't want more comfort right then, because more comfort meant that she could break down. Alex didn't want that, she hated being out of control. That was a streak of stubbornness she had inherited from her mother. "It'll never stop hurting." Irina continued quietly.

"I know, but…" Alex didn't finish her sentence. Her eyes were slightly unfocused and she concentrated on breathing.

"Can you handle an audience for a little time?" Irina asked changing the subject after a few minutes of sitting in comforting silence. Alex looked at her, smiled just a little and nodded. Irina stood up and walked to an armchair that was just a few feet away. She sat down and grabbed the book that was lying on the small table next to it. After a few minutes Alex started playing again. After a little while Irina stopped pretending to read and dropped the book she was holding. She closed her eyes and listened her niece doing the only thing that had always comforted her.

---- Los Angeles, the next day 

Sydney walked through the hospital rooms to Will's room. He had been moved from the ICU a few hours ago. The doctor had confirmed that physically he would recover fully and Sydney was sincerely happy for that. But she was also worried about Will's emotional condition. They hadn't had a chance to talk about Francie and Allison yet. She had a pretty good idea what Will was feeling but he had been tight-lipped the previous night when she had seen him. Partly due to the fact that he had still been heavily sedated.

Sydney stopped in front of Will's hospital room door. She took a breath and turned the knob. When she had closed the door behind her, she took in the sight. The room was dim and the only occupant was sleeping soundly. There weren't as many machines surrounding him as the day before, for which she was glad.

When Sydney sat down next to the bed, Will stirred. He slowly opened his eyes, which at first refused to focus. A couple of minutes later he was more alert and noticed Sydney next to him.

"Hey," Sydney said softly smiling.

"Hi," his throat was sore and scratchy. Sydney noticed his difficulty to talk, got up and poured him a cup of water. Then she took a straw and sat back down next to him. When Will was able to talk again he thanked her.

"How are you feeling?" Sydney asked him feeling that she should say something. A second later she realized how stupid the question might sound to him. "Sorry, dumb question." She said sheepishly.

"No, it isn't." Will assured her. "And actually I feel like I was hit by a semi." He tried to lighten the sour mood.

"It'll get better." Sydney didn't know what else to say. Will, on the other hand, wasn't at such a loss at words.

"Thank you." He said simply. When Sydney looked at him in confusion, he explained. "For saving me. If it wasn't for you two, I would be dead right now."

"Oh, Will," Sydney sighed. Emotions, she had tried to suppress, won over her self-control and tears cascaded down her cheeks. To be honest with herself she was getting tired of tearing up and crying all the time. She was in the dark why her emotions were all over the map lately. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Not your fault." Will lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, hoping to get the message across.

"Sydney, don't cry." Will said in an attempt to soothe her. "I didn't mean to make you cry." He was feeling crappier with every passing moment.

"Not your fault." Sydney mimicked his words from earlier. "I'm just over-emotional lately." She smiled awkwardly.

"Come on, lie down." Will patted the bed.

"You were in surgery just yesterday." Sydney argued.

"So?" He questioned. "You look like you are ready to bolt out of the room. Just relax." He paused to look at her. "Come on." He repeated patting the space next to him one more time. Sydney finally relented and stood up. She took off her jacket and her boots. Careful of the machinery and other equipment, she lied down next to Will. After a few seconds she laid her heard on his shoulder.

"Just let me know when I'm hurting you." She ordered quietly.

"You? Never." He quipped warmly. Sydney smiled at his response.

"You're the best friend a girl could have." Sydney felt at ease of the comfort Will emitted, even a day after major surgery. She had always felt safe with him, because he was her best friend. One of two best friends, she mentally corrected herself.

Sydney decided that the Allison-issue could wait a few hours. Will hadn't mentioned it yet and Sydney thought that just for few hours both of them could still pretend that Francie was at home safe and sound. With that thought she slipped into slumber with Will beside her.

----

CIA Headquarters, Los Angeles 

Allison Doren wasn't looking at Jack or Kendall. She had fixed her eyes on a US marshal, who was standing near the door in a false illusion of safety. Nobody actually tried to escape from the interrogation room, because in there the prisoners were handcuffed to the aluminium chair that was bolted to the floor. And even if the prisoner could get out of it and overpower the people in the room, they were located in the middle of the headquarter, so escaping would be proven quite difficult.

The poor man, who was forced to be in the same room, was quietly squirming in his place. The look Allison had directed to him was making him nervous. But knowing he had to be there kept him in his place.

"Who hired you?" Kendall leaned on the table with both of his hands and looked right at Allison who purposely didn't look away from the marshal.

"Curiosity killed the cat, agent Kendall." Allison wasn't worried about Kendall, because she knew that he wouldn't get an answer from her. She was more worried about Jack Bristow, for she knew that his mind worked differently and could read answers out of sentences that meant nothing on the outside.

"I'm allergic to cats." Kendall answered in a mocking tone. "Look, we all know that you didn't wake up one day and think that you're going to alter your DNA and take over the life of Francine Calfo. So, just confess and make it easier on yourself. Are you working for Arvin Sloane?" Allison's eyes didn't waver from her target.

After twenty seconds of silence Kendall tried again. "Let's try another question: why were you there?" Kendall was getting more and more frustrated.

"Why are any of us here?" Allison raised her eyebrows in a dramatic effect. Neither man appreciated the answer.

"Why did you agree to erase your existence?" Jack asked. When he didn't get an answer, he continued. "There is one more interesting fact you should know. The process can't be reversed, because all data was destroyed some time ago. That means you will always look like that."

That got an emotion out of Allison. She took her gaze off of the man standing in the corner and directed it to Jack. For one moment she felt open fear and Jack saw that. But Allison regained her control soon and she kept quiet. The interrogation continued for quite some time, but there was no change in Doren's posture. Jack and Kendall kept on pressuring, but she didn't relent. Finally they had her taken out of the room.

"You were right, Jack." Kendall said. "She gave us absolutely nothing."

"Not quite." Jack answered with a satisfied look on his face. "She is afraid. She didn't know that the process couldn't be reversed. Now she is vulnerable. We'll talk to her in a few hours."

"I think we should just send her to Camp Harris." Kendall disagreed with Jack.

"That would make her close up. Then she would give us nothing. We'll talk to her after a little while." Jack repeated himself. Kendall nodded and accepted that Jack was now in charge.

Before they walked out of the room, Jack turned towards the two-way mirror and spoke.

"Agent Vaughn, it would be appreciated if you would continue the work you were doing before deciding to satisfy your curiosity."

Vaughn gulped in the adjoining room. He had no idea how Jack had known that there was anybody behind the mirror, let alone him. When Jack and Kendall had left the room, he exited the observation room and shuffled after them, feeling slightly out of his league.


	6. Business Proposals

**Chapter 6**

Good Samaritan Hospital, Los Angeles, Two days later 

"Will, what are you doing?" Sydney asked in exasperation. She was currently watching her friend push the lunch tray away with one finger as if it were radioactive.

"I'm afraid that soon enough it will start glowing." Will said seriously. "I swear. You come to a hospital with a minor injury, you eat this food and you will stay here for a month." He explained waving his hands fiercely.

"Hospital food isn't that bad." Sydney tried to argue with her friend.

"This comes from a woman, who hasn't been in a hospital for quite some time." He retorted.

"And your injuries aren't minor." Sydney ignored Will's comment.

Sydney was glad her friend was joking. She had been afraid that after the talk they had had the day before about Allison Doren and Francie, he would close up. But fortunately that hadn't happened. She could see he was grieving and his mood wasn't as high as he had just tried to prove. The fact that Will tried to show he was okay proved that he was worried about Sydney's well-being just as much as she was worried about his.

"I know." He said a little quieter.

Sydney grabbed his hand from the bed and squeezed it as a gesture of comfort. Will held he hand and smiled weakly at her. He knew that after a few minutes he would start babbling, so he decided to change the topic.

"How are things at Sloane front?" Work was safe enough.

"Right now we don't know where he is. We have nothing on him." Sydney answered. "But we keep on searching."

"And your mother?" Will prodded.

"Gone like the wind. She has dropped off the map even more than Sloane. There is nothing coming through her network. It looks like her organization just stopped working a few days ago." Sydney felt disappointed.

Truth be told, putting her mother in prison wasn't the only reason why Sydney wanted to catch her. She wanted answers. For two days she had analysed everything about her mother and she had come up with the fact that she knew nothing of her. As an agent that meant that she couldn't predict any moves from her mother. As a daughter, her own mother was a stranger.

During the last years she had tried to suppress the daughter-instincts and replace them with the agent-instincts. Sometimes she succeeded, sometimes not.

"And how are things between you and Vaughn?" Will inquired with a smile.

"They are great. Vaughn has been just wonderful through all of this." Sydney truly felt loved after a long time. She would have never believed that after Danny she could feel this way, but she did.

"I'm glad you have someone to lean on. Things aren't easy for you, and from what I've gathered, they're going to get tougher." He said sympathetically.

"Will, how are you doing? It's been just as tough for you as it has been for me." Sydney looked Will in the eye and he understood that she would know if he lied. So, he decided to tell her the truth.

"Not so great, actually." He dropped his eyes, but Sydney urged him to look at her by squeezing his hand. "I still can't believe Francie is dead. The fact that I didn't realize the woman I was dating wasn't who I thought she was drives me crazy. I feel guilty for not noticing it wasn't France all along." He sighed.

"I feel guilty also. I feel like I should have taken more notice of her. During the last year we had drifted apart and because of that I didn't see the changes in her." Sydney let guilt take over her.

"Did you love her?" She suddenly asked.

For a moment Will pondered over what Sydney meant. "I loved Francie." He smiled. "Maybe not in the 'till death do us apart' kind of way yet, but I loved her. I think given time I would have truly loved her." He believed what he had said. He hadn't been sure of his feelings before he knew that Francie was dead, but the days in the hospital gave him time to think. It was the only thing he could do. He reached the truth that he had loved Francie.

Sydney started to say something, but was interrupted by her pager. She smiled apologetically at Will and checked her pager. "It's dad. I must go to work. There's a meeting." She said to Will.

"Okay." Will adjusted his position.

"I'll be back in the evening with Weiss and Vaughn. They said that they wanted to visit you." Sydney took her bag from the chair in the corner. Then she waked to Will's bed and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't overdo it. Just rest." She instructed.

"That's what everybody keep on telling me. Like I'm thinking of running a marathon." Will rolled his eyes. Sydney laughed quietly and headed out the door.

----

_Beijing, China_

Arvin Sloane was usually a patient man. He lived by the rule that when you wait enough, everything you want will come to you on its own. He knew that there was always enough time to accomplish something. And he had lived his whole life by that rule. He wouldn't have become the director at SD-6, if he hadn't. Patience is a virtue a leader needs, he always told himself. That is why he could stand for hours overseeing and performing interrogations; he believed that, given enough time, the interrogated would tell him their life stories if necessary.

A long time ago, a business partner had said to him that he would be a great sniper. The associate had told him that Sloane had all three important things a great sniper needed: accuracy, a great compartmentalizing powers and patience.

But all that patience didn't make him calmer when he realized that he didn't have everything to start Rambaldi's endgame. And that's why he was tending his left fist right now and glaring at the hole in the plaster in his office.

The subordinate in his office was standing stalk-still and was waiting for orders, so he could get out of there. The only reason he was working for Arvin Sloane was because the man paid great money. And for an enough amount of money, he would do almost everything.

"I'll have the wall fixed by tomorrow morning." He said without a hint of emotion in his voice.

Sloane nodded, not really caring what the man had said at the moment. He didn't have time for small talk, for he had to find out what he had missed on those manuscripts.

"Bring the manuscripts to me." Sloane ordered. He decided that he would not rest tonight until he found a clue. The man nodded, turned around and walked out of the office, closing the door gently after him.

Sloane threw the piece of cotton, that he was cleaning his wound with, on the table in annoyance. His mind couldn't comprehend what had gone wrong with his plan. He had followed the manuscript to the letter, he couldn't have been wrong. But yet he was. He had always prided himself as a man who makes no mistakes and now he made a misstep with the greatest machine in the world. If he didn't figure out what was wrong he would never forgive himself.

The fact that he had to run and worry about getting caught by the CIA was a distraction he couldn't afford, but yet couldn't solve either. He had to dedicate his whole attention to the Rambaldi puzzle, but there were unwanted obstacles. But obstacles were there to be overcome.

Sloane had dedicated his whole life to Rambaldi and he wasn't going to let any country, organization or person to get in the way. He wasn't worried about the CIA yet, because he knew it would take time before they would catch up with him. But there were three persons he was afraid who could destroy his plans: Sydney Bristow, Jack Bristow and Irina Derevko. He knew they had enough knowledge, intelligence and reachable sources to track him down. Fortunately for him Sydney and Jack were somewhat held back by the CIA.

But Irina worried him the most. She had shown that she could damage him without him even realizing it. He had learned that lesson, when she had betrayed him a few days ago. And she had nothing that would hold her back from wrecking his plans. Even more: she seemed very interested in destroying him. That's why he needed to get rid of her, before she could get rid of him. So he made a call.

"Hello, André. It's Arvin Sloane." He leaned back in his armchair. "I need a favour." He paused. "I need you to kill Irina Derevko."

"_That's quite a favour to ask. I hear that she cannot be caught." _Sloane heard a heavily accented voice on the other end.

"That's why I'm offering a good deal to you." Sloane wasn't afraid to give out a lot of money for what he wanted.

"_How good?" _The man asked.

"Check your mail. There's the number which represents the amount of money you will receive when you succeed." Sloane ordered. After a few minutes of silence he got an answer.

"_I'll call you when it's done."_ André answered and hung up.

Sloane knew that there was a great chance that the Frenchman would fail, so he made a few more calls, all regarding the same offer. When he disconnected the fourth call, the man, who had been in the office before, brought the manuscripts to him.

"The manuscripts, sir." The man said placing the small metal case of the desk and then leaving again.

Sloane's eyes filled with desire, as they did every time he saw them. He could feel the power emitting from them. So close, but yet so far. Sloane ran his hand over the case, almost as a caress, before opening the lock with the key from around his neck. He opened the lid of the case and gently took the manuscripts out of it. He held them as gently as a mother would hold her newborn baby.

But before he could look at the manuscripts again, his self-phone rang. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting to turn it off. He forcefully flipped it open and answered with more force than necessary.

"Yes." Sloane didn't want to be disturbed.

"_Mr. Sloane."_ A familiar British accent reached his ear.

"Mr. Sark. I thought you were in prison." Sloane relaxed a bit and even a hint of amusement hid in his voice.

"_Don't believe everything you hear."_ He got an answer. _"But yes, for a short time I spent time in a lovely cell in CIA custody."_

"I don't believe you called just to chat, Mr. Sark." Sloane's voice regained its coldness.

"_I have a business proposal."_ 'Sark' answered getting to the point.

"A business proposal? As I remember correctly, you directed the CIA right to me. Why should I listen to what you have to say?" Sloane inquired. In truth, he was interested what the younger man would have to say. He interested him.

"_I was certain that you would get away before they reached you, Mr. Sloane."_ Julian played on the vanity card.

"Don't think I'm so foolish that I'll give into your flattery." Sloane answered.

"_The machine isn't working correctly is it?" _Julian changed tactics.

"How do you know?" Sloane responded.

"_You're not the only one with connections. I have a suggestion, if you hear me out."_

"I'm listening." Sloane answered.

"I know why the machine doesn't work and I'm willing to help you to find what went wrong. For the proper fee, of course."

"I repeat my question: why should I listen to what you have to say?" Sloane asked.

"Because you want to know what Rambaldi saw. And I am interested in the money."

"All right, Mr. Sark. Be in Tokyo in four days. I'll get in touch." Sloane relented.

"_Yes. Have a nice day, Mr. Sloane." _'Sark' wished.

Sloane hung up the phone and stood up from his chair. The fact that Sark had just offered him a very convenient deal at the moment worried him a little. It seemed pre-coordinated. And given Sark's history with Irina, Sloane was a little worried. The younger man claimed that his loyalties are flexible, but Sloane feared that his loyalties still lied with Irina.

Sloane picked up his phone and dialled. "Trace the call that just came on my cell phone and put surveillance on Mr. Sark." He ordered. After hanging up the phone he looked at the picture of Emily on his desk. He carefully picked it up. "Everything is falling into place, darling." He said.

----

Russia 

"Houston, we have lift-off." Julian smiled after closing his phone.

"Good boy, Julian. Do you want a treat?" Alex commented half-heartedly.

Before he could glare at his cousin, Irina spoke.

"What did he tell you?" She inquired.

"He told me to meet him in Tokyo in four days." He explained.

"That means you have to leave tonight to ensue he doesn't connect you to Irina anymore." Katya injected.

"That's probably the wisest course of action." Elena agreed.

"You've got to leave enough evidence to Sloane for him to realize you don't work for me anymore." Irina said. Julian nodded to the directions. To be honest, he figured them out on his own, too. But he wasn't about to say that.

"I'll go pack then." He stood up and headed upstairs.

"I have to go tonight, too. I need to start ensuring all of our contacts are reliable. We need to have all our bases covered." Elena said.

"I leave tomorrow morning. But you stay here for two more days." Katya pointed at Irina.

"I don't see the need to stay in hiding. Right now most of the world is looking for Sloane and I'm not going to sit here for two more days. I need to start, too." Irina argued.

"Just two more days. You are the person all intelligence agencies are looking for. Ironically, your deal hasn't changed a thing." Katya added.

"I'll stay here for one more day. The day after tomorrow I leave for Australia and then I'm done playing hide-and-seek." Irina said leaving no room for argument.

"Australia?" Elena asked.

"I promised him that I keep him posted." Irina shrugged. Katya and Elena looked at her in understanding.

"Don't worry, aunt Irina. I'll stay here for two more days, too. We won't be bored." Alex said in her most angelic voice.

"Lovely." Irina said dryly. She realized that Alex would be harassing her on the Jack-issue. That was really something to wait for. Not.

----

Los Angeles 

The operations centre was buzzing with activity. Sydney carefully made her way through the people and towards Vaughn's desk, where the named man and Weiss were talking.

"Hey, guys." She greeted them while leaning on the table right next to Vaughn. Both men greeted her back. When Weiss looked at the distance, or in this case non-existing distance, between the two, he rolled his eyes.

"Do you know why we were paged?" She inquired.

"No." Vaughn shook his head. "We know just as much as you do."

"Maybe we have a lead. I mean we were given orders to chase every clue we get." Weiss offered.

"Perhaps." Sydney shrugged her shoulders.

"Are you feeling alright?" Vaughn asked.

"I'm great." Weiss answered.

"I was asking Sydney." Vaughn rolled his eyes at his friend's antics.

"You don't want to know how I'm feeling? I'm hurt." Weiss joked.

Sydney looked from one friend to another and smiled. She had always enjoyed listening their banter. It made her feel like everything was okay and normal.

"I'm fine." She smiled at Vaughn's care.

"Are you sure?" He asked again. "You're looking a little pale." He noted.

"I've been a little run down lately. It's just stress." She tried to reassure him. In reality she had been feeling bad lately. She was nauseous all the time and couldn't eat anything. And she didn't even want to thing about her over-emotions. But she thought it was all a reaction to the recent events.

"We should go. The meeting starts any minute." Sydney started towards the meeting room with Weiss and Vaughn right behind her. When she realized, that they flanked her, she had to suppress a smile.

When they reached the briefing room they saw Marshall and Dixon already there. Marshall was apparently explaining something to Dixon. He noticed them when they walked in and looked at them quite thankfully.

"Hey." He greeted them. Marshall turned around and saw Sydney, Vaughn and Weiss standing there.

"Hey, guys." He cheerfully waved at them. The five talked a little, before the meeting started.

Exactly a minute later Jack walked in with Kendall right on his heels. Both had grave expressions on their faces.

"I've received orders from above concerning our priorities here." Jack started unceremoniously. Before anyone could prompt him to elaborate, he continued. "Our first priority is to catch Sloane and to re-attain the Rambaldi artifacts."

"What about Irina Derevko?" Dixon asked after noticing neither Jack nor Kendall mentioned her.

"We are ordered not to pursue Derevko. If we get leads on her, we go after her, but only when there is nothing on Sloane." Kendall explained.

Everybody found the fact that catching Irina Derevko wasn't a first priority questionable. The woman had run a criminal empire for years and now they were just letting her go.

"Where did these orders come from?" Sydney asked curiously.

"The President." Jack answered.


	7. Silence Before The Storm

**Disclaimer:** I don't have any connections to the actually existing organizations or people mentioned in this fiction. I just need to use them to make my story logical.

Chapter 7 Los Angeles, CIA Headquarters 

The briefing room was engulfed in silence. All agents, except Kendall, were staring at Jack as if he had grown a second head. Dixon's eyes had widened remarkably along with Weiss', Vaughn had dropped the file he had been skimming through while Sydney was staring at her father unbelievingly. Marshall was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second; he really should have quit a long time ago.

"The President of the United States?" Dixon was the first to speak his mind.

The fact that capturing Sloane was their first priority wasn't so shocking; the surprising thing was that the president himself gave the orders to leave the search for Irina Derevko on the background.

"Yes." Jack himself had difficulty to comprehend why he had got such orders. "I talked to him myself."

"So we are supposed to go after Sloane, but let Irina Derevko do what she wants?" Vaughn realized that his question had come out a bit harsher than he had meant it. He was relieved when Sydney hadn't caught his accusing tone.

"No. We won't let her do what she wants, agent Vaughn." Jack bit out. "Our priority is to apprehend Sloane, but that doesn't mean that we are going to stop looking for Derevko. Or Sark for that matter." Vaughn felt a little uncomfortable under Jack's harsh gaze. He had never been exactly afraid of the older man, he respected him and tried not to be on his bad side, which unfortunately happened more than he wished.

"Do we have anything on him?" Weiss steered the topic a little.

"No." Jack turned to him. "Since he escaped he hasn't appeared anywhere on the radar."

"So we have three terrorists on the loose with no way of tracking them." Weiss stated out loud.

"Right now, that's the situation." Jack let Weiss' comment slide.

"But are they all working on their own or together?" Dixon pondered.

"We have no indication that they are working together, but we have no indication that they have parted ways." Kendall said disappointedly.

"But, Mrs. Derevko ratted Sloane out," Marshall pointed out. "I mean, uh, she told Syd where to find him. And Sark helped you into the facility."

"Irina giving Sloane out may be an act to make us think that they are no longer working together, but it may also be true." Jack admitted Marshall had a point. "We have to prepare for the option that could do more harm: Derevko and Sloane are not on friendly terms anymore."

"Uh, why is that bad?" Marshall asked. "Couldn't it mean that one could help us capture the other?"

"It's not likely that either of them would help the CIA in any way." Jack pointed out.

"So we assume that they have parted ways, but which side is Sark on?" Dixon asked no one directly.

"Well, when he appeared in the arena, he was working for Irina. There's a big chance he still does, but he may work for Sloane, too. He also may be parted from both of them and have his own agendas. There is no telling what he may do." Jack said.

"Sark doesn't have it to work on his own. He needs someone to guide him. We need to find out who he is loyal to." Sydney didn't have so much faith in Sark's abilities to make it on his own.

"Ah, if Mrs. Derevko double-crossed Sloane, doesn't it mean that they may start attacking each other? I mean, Mr. Sloane isn't exactly, uh, the forgiving type-" Marshall seemed worried.

"Sloane may want to get revenge on Irina." Marshall smiled triumphantly when Jack agreed with him.

"If they start fighting each other then we're screwed." Weiss realized that he had said those words out loud; he shrank into his chair. "I mean we may have problems." It wasn't the greatest policy to speak like that to his superiors.

"You're right, agent Weiss. Derevko has a widespread organization and we don't know its whole extent. And Sloane's contacts make him as dangerous." Kendall agreed. "If one attacks and the other retaliates, we may face international catastrophes."

"I don't know if catastrophe is the right word. Let's hope they're not going for mass-genocide yet." Jack injected.

"Let's hope." Kendall tossed back.

"Right now we have no new leads, so we are going to go over everything we have on the three of them. Every little clue. There may be something we missed or thought as unimportant before." Jack ordered. "Meeting adjourned."

Agents poured out of the briefing room and spread around the office to work on their leads. Only Sydney stayed behind to talk to her father.

"Dad?" She approached him.

"Yes, Sydney." He turned to her and waited for her to continue.

"Has Allison Doren said anything?" She asked unsurely. Sydney wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer, but she asked anyway.

"Not yet."

"Okay." Sydney said quietly and gave him a sad smile. Sydney walked towards the door, but before exiting the door, she turned around.

"Dad?" She seemed unsure for a second. "Would you like to have dinner tonight?" Sydney suddenly asked. She and her father had a complicated relationship, to put it mildly. She knew that they had come a long way, but they still needed to work on it. Dinner was a good start for communicating outside of work.

"I would." He answered.

"Pick me up at seven." Jack nodded and Sydney gave him a brighter smile. Then she turned around heading towards her desk, but with a better mood that before.

Jack was surprised at Sydney's offer. He realized how much their relationship had grown. Two years ago he had left her sitting alone in a restaurant fearing to create a relationship with her. He had felt incompetent as a father and didn't want to disappoint Sydney. Now he realized that it had been a mistake, but fortunately he had another chance, which he would use. He wanted to know the wonderful person his daughter was.

Russia 

Julian walked into his room and started packing things he would need to take along with him. He always travelled light, but there were things he needed to keep with him. While packing his thoughts unintentionally went to what was awaiting to happen. He had no idea what it was, but he felt that danger was ahead. He was never the one to believe in a sixth sense, but now he felt that something was about to happen. Luckily, being a part of this family had taught him to be prepared for anything and everything. That, and not to interfere when one of the three sisters was in a bad mood with knives close by.

In reality, Julian Derevko wasn't very different from Julian Sark, who he had played for the past two years. The only difference between the two men was that Julian Derevko wasn't as merciless as Julian Sark. He hadn't been keen on the idea to torture Will Tippin a year ago, but it was either him or someone who didn't care if the man lived or not. That way he could make sure that Sydney's friend was alive at least. He promised silently that one day he will apologize to him, he had a heart.

Suddenly Julian stopped stuffing things into his suitcase and stood still in the middle of his room. Great, now he was talking about himself in a third person. If he continued on this way, he soon would need a shrink. The mental picture of him lying on a sofa at the psychiatrist's couch, talking about his problems made him smirk. That bill would be big.

The things he did for this family. His personal life had practically decreased to the point of non-existent. He was wanted by quite a few intelligence agencies in the world. Half of the criminals of this planet wanted either to work with him and the other half wanted to kill him. And now he was working with a lunatic, whose life work has been to find out what a fifteenth century madman had written. Fan-fricking-tastic.

Truthfully he knew that he couldn't refuse helping any member of his family. That was just the way he was. Families may be separated, members all across the world, but in important things they would stick together, no matter what consequences. That was why he was subsequently looking after Sydney from time to time. The fact that she didn't know he was related to him or the fact that almost all of their encounters have been ended in gunfights didn't mean that he didn't care for her. She was family as much as Alex was to him and he hoped that one day he would get along with Sydney as well as he got along with Alex, despite that he and Alex had grown up together, and despite the fact that Sydney thought of him as the scum of the earth.

"Promise you won't do anything overly bold and stupid." Julian's pondering was ended and he turned swiftly around to see Alex in the threshold.

"Like what?" He prompted with a raised eyebrow.

"Like getting yourself killed." Alex continued without breaking her serious facial expression.

"I promise I'll play safe." He smiled and turned his attention to filling his suitcase.

"Good to know." Alex walked into the room and sat on the bed next to Julian's suitcase.

"Are you going to stay out of trouble?" Julian didn't expect a conclusive answer and he didn't get one.

"I can't promise that." A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Julian knew that Alex couldn't resist the pull to do something mind-bogglingly unreasonable.

"You have something planned, don't you?" He dropped his things in the case and turned fully towards his cousin.

"You never know." She evaded truthfully answering him.

"Just remember your own advice." Julian sat next to his cousin.

"I don't think this will get me killed." Alex answered cryptically. "It may make life for a couple of people much more enjoyable."

Julian knew what she was hinting at. "Messing with her life is as safe as walking in a bear's cave."

"I like bears." Julian refrained himself from rolling his eyes at the woman's faux-innocent words, no one could fight with his cousin in verbal contests. "Especially Winnie the Pooh." She added sarcastically.

Julian couldn't resist it anymore and started laughing. Alex could make comments that would minimize the importance of the situation. It was a good quality.

When Julian had succeeded suppressing his laughter, he turned to Alex. "Do me favour?" He asked.

"I'll check on Sara." Alex smiled in understanding.

"How did you know I was going to ask that?" Julian was surprised.

"It's the only thing you would ask from me now, because you already made me promise that I'll be careful and it would be the only thing you can't do yourself." Alex explained quickly.

"Your logic is unbeatable." Julian shook his head in bemusement.

"You just figured that out?" Alex widened her eyes in mock-surprise.

"No, I found that out when at thirteen you talked yourself out of being accused of spray-painting the principal's office door." Julian admitted.

"Ah, yes." Alex remembered with a cheeky smile on her face. "Good times." She remarked.

"Oh, yeah." Julian and Alex sat in comfortable silence for a little while, both knowing that it may be the last moment of peace before all hell broke loose.

----

Downstairs Irina walked across the hallway to the kitchen, leaving her two sisters in the living room. She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. Moving through the kitchen to the back door she opened the bottle and sipped from it. She pulled the back door open and walked outside into the sunlight.

The back door of the house faced the medium-sized lake. Forest surrounded the lake and hid it and the house from sight. Irina slowly walked down the path to the lake and stepped onto the jetty. She walked to its' end and breathed deeply in. There weren't many times like this in her life, where she could just be and not worry about being in a range of a rifle. She appreciated these little moments.

For most of the last year she had spent in a glass cage, which had ridiculous similarity to Hannibal Lecter's cell. Before that it was all about not getting caught. Or killed. She didn't have many occasions where she could relax, and even if she did, she never completely let everything go. She was too paranoid for that. But it wasn't a bad thing, being paranoid was the thing that kept her alive.

She shook her head to clear her mind from thoughts and looked over the lake, silently hoping Sydney would see this sight one day. Although Sydney wasn't the only person Irina hoped to be standing here with her.

Irina Derevko wasn't a person who could be easily confused. She always had a retort and she had the skill to speak herself out of difficult situations, and if that didn't work, she always carried a small handgun and a knife with her. Nothing surprised her anymore, because she had seen to many horrible things. She had done horrible things herself. But there was one person who could completely and utterly confuse her: Jack. He could make her feel like a teenager, which was ridiculous; she was a leader of a criminal empire for goodness sake.

Years ago when Irina went by the name of Laura she could read her husband. She could tell what he was feeling even when his emotions weren't visible. She remembered that time fondly, when they finished each other's thoughts and sentences. She missed that time, but knew that the bond they shared had been permanently broken. And she had been the one to break it.

Jack had improved his poker face over the years and Irina had lost her ability to read her husband. It didn't strike odd to her that she still thought of him as her husband. She had never stopped thinking of him that way, despite her efforts. He always had been and always will be her husband.

Irina lowered herself to the wooden surface and sat with her legs over the edge of the jetty. This place had so much serenity to it. Whenever things went haywire, she retreated here to hide, heal or plan, whatever was necessary. Irina looked over the lake and suddenly she remembered a conversation held years ago.

It was a hot summer day. Jack had taken the day off to spend it with his wife, who had had that title for only seven months. For seven months they had been experiencing the thing people called marriage. They had argued, fought and Irina had even broken a lamp half-accidentally, but neither of them would want to live any other way, because after every fight they would talk things straight and make up. But not always in that order.

Today they had put together a picnic basket and headed for the park near their recently purchased house. They were half-sitting, half-lying on the blanket under a huge oak tree. Despite it being the middle of the week, the park was full of people enjoying the beautiful weather.

"_How about moving out of the city." Irina grinned and popped a grape in her mouth. _

"_To where?" Jack smiled, waiting for her to make her point. He knew she wasn't serious, but there was no harm in fantasizing. They had a lot of conversations about things that could happen to them, but probably never will. _

"_Near a lake somewhere." Irina suggested frowning as she was making it up on the way. Jack raised his eyebrows and asked. _

"_And what would we do there?" Jack enjoyed listening to his wife. _

"_I could teach in the local school." Irina offered with a business-like expression. Anyone else would think she was serious, but Jack knew better. "And you could become a fisherman." Irina closed her eyes as if mentally conjuring a picture. " I can see you 4 in the morning sitting in your boat in the middle of some lake, while I'm catching up on some sleep." She managed to stay serious through her speech, but when Jack started laughing she couldn't hold back and grinned widely. _

"_Me? A fisherman?" Jack rolled onto his back and pulled Irina on top of him. _

"_Weirder things have happened." She planted a solid kiss on his lips. "And every day I would welcome you home with a kiss and dinner, because you are incapable of catching anything." _

"_I'm very capable of fishing." Irina gave him an unbelieving snort, but before she could express her lack of faith in his fishing skills Jack had suddenly turned them over, so that Irina was lying on her back. "But the welcoming home with a kiss has a ring to it. But only if the kiss leads to something else." He wiggled his eyebrows. Irina laughed throatily and Jack captured her lips in a kiss with more passion than before. _

"_Careful Jack." Irina warned him when they gave into the need of oxygen. "Soccer-moms are ready to slash our tires." Irina indicated to the group of mothers who were giving them harsh glares for their public display of affection on the blanket. _

_Irina laughed harder when Jack scrambled off of her and tried to sit decently next to her. _

"_It's not funny, Laura." Jack said exasperated. _

"_Yes, it is." Irina sat up next to him. After a second, she smiled slyly. "Right now they want to slash one tire. Let's make it all four." Before Jack could protest Irina pulled him into a fierce kiss, which made the critical women in the background gasp for air. _

_Despite being a little embarrassed, Jack couldn't keep the smile off his face when the kiss ended. Irina smiled satisfied with herself and offered Jack a grape. _

"_I promise, when we're old, we'll get a house next to a lake. And I'll try fishing." Jack promised. _

"_I'll remind you of it." Irina smiled and gave him another kiss. _

Irina had always known that Jack would never fulfil the promise that day, because she knew she would be gone, but that day she had chosen to believe that. She had chosen to live in the illusion, because she loved being there and she loved Jack. Irina never knew when she had fallen in love with Jack. Had it been the day when he had helped a lost three-year-old find her mother in the mall? Had it been the day when he had sent her two-dozen roses for her birthday? Or had it been the day he proposed? All Irina knew was that on her wedding day she had been in love with him, despite what she had been convincing herself in.

Irina stood up and headed back towards the house with more determination than before. She had fought to destroy Rambaldi for a long time and she was going to finish what she started, and Sloane wasn't somebody who could stop her. She decided she was going to explain herself to Sydney and Jack. Even if they won't have a house by the lake, when they get old, at least he will understand her intentions. She was going to make sure of that.

CIA Headquarters, Interrogation room 2, Los Angeles 

Jack and Kendall were observing Allison Doren from the mirroring room. She wasn't tormenting the guard by the door anymore, just staring at the mirror. She knew that she was being watched and was just waiting for something to happen.

"Jack, I still think that the best idea is to send her to Camp Harris." Kendall pressed. He wasn't happy with the arrangement, which had put Jack in command of the Task Force. Both men knew it and both wanted it to be over, although they had different reasons for it.

"If she won't talk to me today, send her to wherever you want." Jack said without taking his eyes off the prisoner.

"Why do you think you can get through to her today?" Kendall noticed that Jack was confident that the woman would tell him everything they needed.

"Two days ago we told her that the Helix protocol is irreversible. She has had time to think about it. Probably she doesn't believe it, but when I put solid evidence in front of her, she will be much probable to tell us what we need." Jack explained his tactics.

Kendall took the three files from the table behind them and skimmed through them. He saw that Jack had a real chance to make Doren talk, because the facts in the files were unarguable.

"Good luck." Kendall handed the files to Jack, who took them and marched out of the room without acknowledging Kendall. Without stopping he strode into the interrogation room with an unrevealing expression on his face. He threw the three files onto the table without breaking his stride.

Allison slowly pulled her gaze to the same level as Jack. Her stance didn't waver.

"It's so sweet that you brought me something to read. I already know the number of the tiles on the cell ceiling. Of course Tolstoy would be better, but beggars can't be choosers." She mocked.

Jack looked at her for a moment without saying anything, then her opened the files and put them in front of the woman so she could read them. The he leaned back and indicated that she should read them. Allison scoffed, but shifted herself so she could read the files. The more she read the more her eyes widened. She grew a little paler and her hands had an uncomfortable shake to them when she finished with the third file.

"You can choose whether you believe it or not, it's your choice, but I know it's the truth. Sloane promised you that he'll reverse the process, when your task is over." Jack assumed. "But guess what? Your task is over, but you will look like that until the day you die and nothing is going to change that. Not anymore." With every word Jack spoke, the more Allison started shaking. "Sloane doesn't care whether you live or die. You were just a person who helped him get closer to his goal." Jack pressed on. "You're going to be held responsible for all of his crimes because you are the only employee, who has worked for Sloane. Do you really want to go to prison for him?" Jack asked.

"Shut up." Doren growled lowly.

"Because you will and I promise you: you'll get to see yourself every day for the rest of your life, because I will make sure mirrors surround your prison cell." Jack was deliberately taunting her knowing that she would crack. She sprang from her chair and tried to lunge at Jack, but the restraints held her back and she fell right back to her seat. The guard from the door took a few steps towards them, but Jack waved him off.

"Tell us what we want to know and you'll get to make a deal." He promised.

"If I tell you everything I know, I want a pardon." Allison stated.

"You'll be lucky if you escape the death sentence." Jack told her.

"Fine." Allison clenched her teeth. If she was going down, she was pulling everyone down with her.

Jack smiled inwardly, his plan worked. He sat on the chair next to him. "State your name." He said.

"Are you kidding me?" Allison looked at him unbelievingly. When she realized that it was necessary for protocol, she cocked her head and smirked. "Allison G. Doren."

"Whom do you work for?" Jack started with obvious questions he knew she would answer.

"Arvin Sloane, but you already know that." She commented.

"What assignment did he give you?" He paid no heed to her comments.

"I was ordered to kill Francine Calfo and present myself as her. During the process to observe Sydney Bristow's life and work."

"You killed Francine Calfo?" Jack asked for conclusion.

"Yes. One bullet to the head." The woman showed no signs of remorse.

"Was that your only order?" Jack asked tersely.

"At first, yes. I gave Mr. Sloane the information he wanted."

"You communicated with Sloane directly?" Jack asked.

"No, I mostly communicated with Mr. Sark, but lately I got orders and answered to Sloane personally." Allison informed him. "The odd thing was that I actually never met with the man."

Jack didn't find it suspicious, but the answer to his next question did.

"But he knew you were posing as Francie Calfo?"

"Actually, no. Only Mr. Sloane and the technicians, who were present during the DNA-mutating." She answered.

"What were your other orders?" Jack demanded. When he saw confusion on the woman's face, he elaborated. "You said that at first posing as Francie Calfo was your only order. What happened later?" He rephrased his question.

"He ordered me to kill Diane Dixon." Allison showed as much remorse with this confession as she did with the first.

"And you followed these orders through?" Jack clenched his hands. He remembered how Dixon suffered when his wife died.

"Yes." Her answer was short.

"Why was Will Tippin framed as the other double?" He asked emotionlessly.

"Because I received those orders. No one could know that I was the double." Allison said.

"Did you ever meet Sloane's business partners?" Jack asked.

"You mean if I met Irina Derevko." Doren smiled coldly. "No, I didn't meet any of his business partners. And I was given strict orders to stay away from your wife." She knew she had hit a tender area.

"Why was that?" Jack didn't seem fazed on the outside.

"I really don't know. Maybe Sloane was afraid her maternal instincts would over-rule her passion for Rambaldi." Allison leaned forward.

'Not likely.' Jack thought.

"Do you have any idea where Sloane might be now?" He pushed aside his emotions and concentrated on the interrogation.

"No," Allison replied.

The interrogation went on for quite a while, Jack asked and Allison answered, at the same time to taunt Jack. On the other side of the mirror Kendall was mentally congratulating Jack on his success. Despite the man's excellent track records, he hadn't believed that Jack could make the woman talk so quickly. He was glad that Jack knew what he was doing, because time was the thing they were running short of.


	8. Lunch And Bullets

**Chapter 8**

_Four days later, London_

Sun had set a long time ago and darkness had settled upon the city. Despite the late hour the city centre was buzzing with activity. Restaurants, pubs, café's were open and flooded with people, all enjoying a well-earned rest after a long day.

A dark Porsche drove at a moderate speed through the streets; no one had noticed it circling the same streets for the last hour. The driver finally steered the car away from the main centre and drove towards the outskirts of the city. After a half an hour of exploring the neighbourhood, the car turned off the street and towards a warehouse. An electrical fence surrounded it, keeping a high feeling of safety, but oddly the gate was open.

The car slowed its speed and finally halted into a stop next to a blue Volkswagen, about thirty feet from the door. The driver got out of the car and slammed the door shut. She subsequently glanced back at the street she had turned off. Seeing that no one was following her, she started towards the warehouse. After the last look around the perimeter she quietly pulled the door open and entered.

The warehouse was empty and had obviously been out of use for years; dust covered every horizontal surface and the building itself seemed like very soon it would be having a date with a bulldozer. Despite that fact, a small light illuminated a metal table in the centre of the room. It was littered with papers. What they contained, the entering person couldn't see, but she could only guess. A man was hunched over the table, seemingly writing something. His posture seemed rigid and tense.

He hadn't heard the woman enter, so when she had neared him and cleared her throat a few feet behind his back, he was startled. He jumped in his seat, accidentally flung the pen away and quickly turned around to see the person behind him, grabbing the edge of the table to steady himself.

"Jumpy?" Irina asked with a bit of humour glinting in her eyes.

"Irina." Arthur breathed in relief. Although no one knew about this meeting, he had been worried that security had been breached. "Don't do that." He sat back down on his chair, only now he was facing Irina and his back was to the table.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Irina apologized, her mirth still evident. Arthur's look could be best described as saying 'Yeah, right.'

"What do you have for me?" Irina neared the table. "You said in the phone you found something."

"Yes, I do." Arthur nodded and turned towards the table. Irina, now being closer to the table and able to examine the papers on the table, saw that the Rambaldi manuscripts covered the table, along with pages that Arthur had filled with his notes and encryptions. "I made a few phone calls."

"Arthur," Irina said with a slightly warning voice. "That's my part. No one can know you're in any contact with me." Irina reminded him.

"I know, don't worry. No one knows anything." Arthur smiled inwardly at Irina's words. "I know what I'm doing." He added. "I found out who has the opals."

Irina looked at him with interest. "Who?"

"A jewel merchant." Came the short reply.

"On whose payroll?" Irina looked at some of Arthur's notes on the table. Dozens of sheets were scribbled full of his slightly sloppy handwriting.

"Nobody's." Irina stopped shuffling through the pages and looked at him. "The man has no idea who Rambaldi is. At least I got that impression."

"Who is he?" Irina leaned on the table.

"Salvatore Puccenelli. He's an Italian jewel collector and merchant. He lives Rome."

"And he has no idea what he has in his possession?" Irina referred to the Rambaldi connection.

"He hasn't got a clue. Lucky guy." He commented. "I don't know where exactly he's located, but you should be able to track him down."

"I could track him down even if he lived in Alaska." Irina smirked at Arthur.

"You could find the Holy Grail if you wanted."

"That's an idea." Irina laughed.

"Irina," Arthur's tone of voice made Irina look at him with inquiry. "The manuscript tells how to build the Rambaldi device, the device tells how to find the key to immortal life." He sighed and pointed to the manuscripts. "Apparently Rambaldi had built a thing he calls the Sphere of Life."

"What is it?"

"The Sphere of Life provides the finder with immortality. At least the manuscripts say so." Arthur indicated to the manuscripts.

"We have another Rambaldi artefact to find and destroy. Things just keep getting better." Irina ran her fingers through her hair.

"Not exactly. Rambaldi wrote that without the Mueller device, the Sphere couldn't be found. It says that the Sphere has been divided to three parts and the parts are hidden across the world. I assume that they are very well hidden, the man had a knack for it." Arthur explained. "And the Mueller device gives the Sphere's pieces' locations when activated, but we don't know what may happen when it is activated."

"You think that when we destroy the machine and manuscripts, the Sphere can never be assembled?" Irina asked with trepidation.

"It says it here." Arthur picked up a sheet of the manuscript.

"Okay, so my job is the same: find the device and destroy it along with the manuscripts." Irina sighed heavily.

"Yes." Arthur told her. "Are you sure you don't need my help anymore?"

"You have done enough, it's my turn now." She reassured him.

"Okay then." Arthur gathered the manuscript and his notes and handed them to Irina. "Destroy it once and for all." He told her.

"I'll try." She smiled without conviction, for Arthur's request was the only one she wasn't sure she knew how to fulfil. Yes, she had power, money and connections, but in the end, she wasn't the one who can put a stop to Rambaldi. Only Sydney had that power. But Irina was sure to help her daughter in that as much as she could.

"Give Emma and the kids a hug for me." Irina turned to Arthur. A man, once on his way to self-destruction, was now a husband and a family man.

"Will do that." Arthur gave Irina a hug. "And you stay safe." He looked at her pointedly.

After a few more moments they exited the warehouse without leaving any evidence of their meeting. As Arthur climbed into his vehicle, Irina threw her bag containing the manuscripts onto the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel. When they drove though the gate, Arthur turned to the right, heading home. Irina, however, turned left with the intent to spend the night at a safe house she owned.

Just as a precaution she circled the main streets a few times. Rationally Irina knew that she had far more people to watch out for than two years ago. A lot more people were out to capture her, maybe even kill her. She should be in hiding, because stakes were a lot higher lately, as Katya had pointed out, but being incredibly stubborn, Irina wouldn't back down. She knew that if she let things rest right then, Rambaldi's works would be more and more dangerous to the world, especially to Sydney.

Irina parked her car three blocks away from her destination. She killed the engine, grabbed the bag and exited the car. Due to the late hour, nobody was in sight and some houses were already dark and their occupants fast asleep. The pace she set was unhurried but not slow. The last thing she wanted to do was to draw attention to herself. To a late wanderer she might seem as a woman late home from work, nothing out of the ordinary.

She was walking on the sidewalk when suddenly her senses told her that something was not right. The hair on her neck stood up as if she was being watched. She fastened her pace slightly, and tried to hear if somebody was following her. She heard nothing. Irina kept walking without giving any impression that she knew she was being watched. If she looked around, the person would know that she realized that she was being watched. That would make them attack suddenly and she didn't want to risk it.

Without any warning the whole street went dark. The streetlights had gone out all together. There was only the glow from windows of the houses on both sides of the street. Irina didn't hear anything, but before she could move she suddenly felt terrible pain shooting through her side. She gave an inaudible gasp and pressed her hand down on her side. She felt warm liquid shooting through her fingers.

Irina felt another bullet whooshing right beside her cheek. Somebody was shooting at her. The reason why she hadn't got a fatal bullet was probably because she had moved suddenly. The fact that the shooter had used a silencer meant that somebody wanted her dead. She started running as fast as she could with her wound, feeling weaker and weaker by the second.

The safe house was still two blocks away and she prayed that the shooter didn't know its location. Irina turned off the street and into a backyard of a house, which had no lights on. Deciding she needed to put more distance between herself and the shooter before inspecting her wound, she bit her lip and moved from one backyard to the neighbouring. Only after entering the fourth she let herself rest a bit.

Leaning on a wall of the house, she tried to control her laboured breath that had been caused by the running and the bullet wound. Irina figured that the bullet had gone straight through and hopefully without hitting anything vital. Irina started to push herself off the wall to keep going when she heard a soft sound. She stilled herself and listened. After a few moments she heard it again from the direction she had come.

Irina didn't have a silencer on her gun and she didn't want to draw attention to herself, so she slowly lowered herself nearer to the ground. She kneeled with one knee on the ground and carefully pulled out a knife she kept on her ankle sheath at all times.

One hand held the knife ready to throw it while the other was pressed up against the wall, keeping Irina in her position. She waited a few minutes, wanting to see who was following her. When she saw the barrel of a rifle glinting in the moonlight, she quickly flicked her wrist and sent the knife flying through the air. The knife hit the man in the throat, making it impossible for him to scream out loud. He crumpled to the ground unable to make a sound. With a few seconds he died.

Irina didn't wait around to see what happened next and started running again. From what she could guess there was only one shooter and he was dead now. After a painful five minutes Irina entered her safe house through the back door, locking it behind her. After checking the rooms downstairs she went to the second floor. Convinced that she was alone in the house, she entered the master bedroom. She took off her coat, wincing in the process, and flung it on the bed.

Although Irina had been shot before, seven times to be exact, it doesn't get any less painful. The only thing that had kept her upright until now was adrenaline, the best drug in the book. But that was slowly dissipating and she was getting lightly dizzy and light-headed. She entered the bathroom and flicked on the lights.

Standing in front of the wide mirror she saw that the right side of her camisole was soaked red. Irina winced as she bent forward to take the first-aid kit from under the sink. Carefully she took the camisole off and laid on in the cabinet next to the sink. Irina hissed as the piece of clothing had stuck slightly to her skin. She cleaned the wound and wiped the blood away from her skin. When she was done the sink had turned into a light shade of red.

Irina inspected the wound and found that despite the great loss of blood, the bullet hadn't endangered her life. It had ripped through her skin and some muscle leaving a straight line in her side. She realized that she needed some stitches to close the wound, but going to a hospital was out of the question.

While giving herself the stitches she needed she started wondering why she was attacked tonight. It was very sudden and that puzzled her. It couldn't have been the CIA, as they would rather send a team to apprehend her rather than a hit man to kill her. Irina had many enemies that would like her dead, but her thoughts were dragged to one man specially: Sloane. It could have easily been him, for his newly acquired hatred for her would make him take such steps to stop her.

If Sloane put a hit on her that would probably mean that the one assailant wouldn't be the only one. Arvin Sloane was a precautious man. That meant that Irina was in more danger herself than she had originally thought, but there was no way she was going into hiding now.

This wasn't the first time she had wondered if telling Jack the truth about her plans in Panama was the wrong thing to do. She had agonized over whether or not to fill him in on her plans. If she had calmly and thoroughly explained why it was necessary, he probably would have agreed to help her. Jack would do anything to protect his daughter, even if it was to work together with the person that had ripped his life apart. The reason why she hadn't told him the truth was simple, only two outcomes might have come: either Jack had agreed to help her and go against the CIA or make sure that she would have arrived back at the CIA. Neither of those options hadn't been acceptable: the first would make him a traitor in the eyes of the U.S government and the second would flush her carefully worked out plan down the toilet.

But this was the first time she realized that telling Jack the truth was more than a desperate wish to tell Jack something that wasn't tainted with any lies, but a way to finalize her plans with the least amounts of lost lives. It started to seem like her life was going to be the next one that was going to be sacrificed to stop Sloane.

Sighing in relief, Irina put a band-aid over her wound and closed the kit. A few minutes she emerged from the bathroom. She was still a little light-headed, but the painkillers she had took the edge off the pain. Irina figured that the dead man wouldn't be found until morning, but by that time she should be long gone. That left her a few hours to sleep, because the medications made her eyelids drop lower and her body screamed for rest and sleep, not meditation. Irina gave into the need and crawled on the bed and tried to find a comfortable position without disturbing the injury. Her last thought before succumbing to sleep was that the painkillers were the reason why she saw a man, a woman and a bottle of wine in Panama when she closed her eyes.

Tokyo 

Julian walked down a path in a non-descript park. Sloane had contacted him a few hours ago and said to meet him here. He had been walking around her for almost half an hour but there was still no sign of Sloane. For a moment he thought that the older man knew something he wasn't supposed to know and he was just the proverbial sitting duck there. But that idea vanished as he saw Sloane walk towards him.

"Mr. Sark. Pleasure seeing you again." Sloane extended a hand.

Julian shook his hand, his face revealing nothing. "Likewise, Mr. Sloane."

"What brings you to me?" They started to walk down the same path.

"I am currently without an employer. My last one has suddenly vanished into thin air without paying for my services. You can imagine that I am not very pleased about that." Julian said smoothly, slightly deepening his accent. "And our previous work together has been quite successful."

"I'm not sure that successful is the right word." Sloane said slowly.

"Useful to both participants?" Julian offered.

The older man smirked a bit. "Maybe. You said that you know why the Il Dire isn't working. How is that?" Sloane turned to him.

"When you work for Irina Derevko, you learn quite a few things." He answered cryptically. "And I didn't say I knew what was wrong. I said I'd help you find out what went wrong."

"For the proper fee, of course." Sloane repeated unimpressed.

"Of course." Julian's tone of voice and stance left no confusion in his demands.

"You do realize that you will be working against your former employer. You worked with her for quite some time. Will that be a problem?" Sloane didn't look at him.

"Mr. Sloane, I'm not in this business to make life-long relationships. Irina Derevko paid me a great deal of money during the last few years and I worked for her. I didn't ask questions why she wanted something done, I just made it happen. The only reason I worked for her so long was that she paid a great deal of money. My loyalties lie with the person who pays me money." Sloane couldn't see anything that would indicate that any part of Sark's speech was false.

"Very well, Mr. Sark." A small smirk appeared on Sloane's lips. "Your knowledge is too wide to let you walk away." He gave Julian an envelope. "Inside there are directions where we shall meet again. Have a lovely day." Sloane gave the younger man a last look and walked in the opposite direction.

Julian watched Sloane walk away, and then turned onto another path in the park.

_[ILos Angeles, a small outdoors restaurant[/I _

Jack and Sydney's dinner had gone surprisingly well. They had managed to avoid most work-related topics and spent a lovely evening. During the course of the evening they pleasantly discovered that they had more things in common than they originally thought. Of course everything wasn't solved in one night, but they made a huge step towards mending their broken relationship. When Jack had subtly asked about Sydney's relationship with Vaughn, she gave him a timid smile before answering. At that moment he realized that his daughter had someone in her life she could lean on.

They had avoided Irina during the course conversation, and at that moment it had seemed like a good idea to Jack. He wasn't keen on discussing Irina Derevko with anyone, but he knew that soon he and Sydney had to talk about her.

Surprisingly three days later Jack had asked Sydney to lunch. When Sydney had looked a little oddly at him Jack had said to her that he does eat. She had simply smiled and grabbed her jacket.

"Dad, I can't believe we have nothing on Sloane." Sydney said gloomily and leaned back in her chair. "Or mom or Sark. It seems like they have vanished into thin air."

Jack dropped his fork softly on his plate and concentrated on his daughter. "Sydney, you can't take everything so personally. It's going to rip you apart."

"How can I not take things personally?" Sydney leaned on the table with her elbows and crossed her arms in front of her. "For years I actually trusted Sloane, while he was the person I should have least trusted." Sydney almost laughed out loud at the thought that once she had trusted Sloane. "I promised to myself that I will see him behind bars and I will. I'm not going to pretend that everything that is wrong in my life is because of Arvin Sloane, but he is greatly responsible. Sark seems to know a lot more about me than I feel comfortable with. And mom flew through my life, as well as yours." Her eyes held compassion.

"Sydney, the last thing you should do is worry about me." Sydney gave him an unamused look. "You say that you're not going to leave the CIA before Sloane is captured."

"Dad," She tried to interrupt softly.

"No, let me finish." Jack's tone was stern but held no harshness. "You have this amazing ability to see the best in people. You've had that your whole life, despite your career. But if you're staying in the CIA to capture Sloane out of vengeance, instead of sense of justice, you are losing that quality. And I don't want to see that happen."

"Dad, you know I'm not going to quit the CIA before Sloane is captured. But it's not because I want revenge on him, although deep inside I do. It's because I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that he is out there somewhere, doing god knows what, and I'm doing nothing to stop him." Sydney kept her voice down, but the vehemence of her speech was seen in her eyes.

Jack understood what his daughter meant. "And if we capture him?"

"What do you mean?" Sydney was puzzled.

"What will you do when we capture [I_only[/I_ Sloane."

Understanding overflowed Sydney. "You mean if Sloane is captured and mom isn't." She broke their eye contact and was suddenly very interested in the tablecloth. "After Tuscany I understood something. I don't want to be faced with the choice of shooting my mother or letting her go. I shouldn't feel that way, I'm an agent after all and she's-"

"You are allowed to have feelings for your mother." Sydney sharply tore her eyes off the table and looked at her father. His sudden change in addressing Irina Derevko baffled her. "Despite all she has done, she is still your mother and I believe she loves you."

Because my love for you, your father, was not a contrivance.

"Would you be able to shoot her? After all, you started to trust her, too." The last thing Sydney wanted to do was to rub salt on open wounds, but her curiosity won.

After a long pause of complementing on whether or not to tell his daughter the truth, he decided to be honest. "I'd like to think that if it came to that in the field I would be able to stay an agent and fulfil my duties as one." Jack considered Sydney's phrase about trusting Irina. "I didn't trust her. Trusting someone would demand knowing them, but I don't [Iknow[/I her. In some sense she's a complete stranger to me."

"Nothing is ever simple in this family." Sydney scoffed slightly.

Jack tried not to notice the family comment. "Nothing ever is."

Sydney wisely kept the 'No shit, Sherlock' to herself.

After a few minutes both of their pagers started to ring. "Kendall." They said simultaneously. Jack quickly paid the bill and they left the restaurant side-by-side.

A few feet away Alex pretended to be submerged in her newspaper. 'So, you don't know her. I think it's time to re-introduce her to you.' And a plan started to form in her head.

[ICIA Headquarters[/I

Sydney and Jack had taken separate cars to lunch in case of an emergency, but they arrived at the Joint Task Force Operations Centre at the same time and walked through the doors together. When they had reached the operations centre Kendall had told Sydney that a meeting was in 15 minutes and asked Jack to follow him.

Sydney watched Jack follow the FBI's Assistant Director with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. She almost smiled at the fact that she and her father had something else in common: lack of friendly feelings towards Kendall.

She saw that Weiss had taken residence on Vaughn's table and they were laughing over something Weiss had just said. Sydney stuffed her hands in her pockets and headed towards them.

"Kendall is on a power-trip again?" Sydney didn't ask the question so much as she just stated it.

"I think he is still ticked off that Jack out-ranks him." Weiss agreed with Sydney.

"But your father doesn't seem too happy with his new job." Vaughn looked towards Jack's office.

"Kendall's breathing down his neck. Would you be happy?" Weiss said in a deadpan voice. Sydney chuckled lightly at Weiss' comment.

"Do you know what is so important that Kendall arranged an impromptu briefing?" Sydney looked at the two friends. Both shrugged their shoulders in an indication of confusion. Over the usual voices at the Joint Task Force they heard fast footsteps and nervous mumbling, which they couldn't understand.

All three turned to see Marshall hastily scurrying across the office with a huge pile of files insecurely placed on his hands.

"Hey, Marshall! Is everything alright?" Weiss asked a little louder to catch the man's attention as his back was turned to the three. Marshall almost dropped the files he was carrying as he jumped and turned around.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Well, _everything_ is never fine, but nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I've got it covered." He gave a quick reply and then ducked into one of the hallways.

"I swear, the guy's stranger by the day." Weiss commented as all three watched the short man rush away.

Fifteen minutes later Jack, Sydney, Kendall, Vaughn, Dixon, Weiss and some additional agents were all gathered up in the briefing room. Just as Kendall opened his mouth to speak, Marshall literally burst through the twin doors. He mumbled an apology as he felt the Assistant Director's angry eyes on him, and quickly sat next to Weiss at the table.

"Sloane and Sark were spotted in Tokyo." Kendall turned his eyes off Marshall and slowly looked over all the people in the room.

"Together?" Sydney inquired.

"Yes, they were seen in a local park. After a short conversation they left in different directions. Unfortunately we were unable to put a tail on either of them as they parted ways before our contacts could develop any plans." A wave of disappointment ran over Kendall's face.

"Does this mean they have aligned forces?" Dixon questioned.

"Right now we think so." Jack got a word in.

"So, uh, this means that Mr. Sark, isn't working with Mrs. Derevko anymore?" Marshall looked from Jack to Kendall, still not sure who to address as his superior.

"We have no solid information, but it seems very likely that Sark and Derevko have parted ways."


	9. We Plot And We Meet

A/N: Thanks to those who review!

**Chapter 9**

Hours later, Paris 

Irina closed her eyes for a moment, as she was content with listening to the engine's hum. She was sitting in the back of a non-descript Sedan as it weaved through the late afternoon Parisian traffic. Her driver was securely making its' way from the airport to the hotel she had requested.

After a few hours of resting the night before, Irina had left her safe house and London. The patch-up work she had done on her side had been checked by one of her subordinates that had a little more knowledge in medicine, although Irina had picked up quite a lot due to her profession. She had flown to Paris on a private jet, but she had gone through the normal airport security. The fact that going through the security precautions had tired her, made her more furious at herself than the shooter. She had blamed herself for being reckless and causing some problems to her plans. Getting shot wasn't in her plans and that might have slowed some things down, which she could not predict just yet.

Gradually she looked out the tinted windows and watched the houses pass. Her side was now throbbing instead of the burning pain she had experienced before. She had fresh bandages and had stronger pain medications in case she did something unadvisable, as she had been told. With a flick of a wrist she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and sighed softly.

Promptly five minutes later the car pulled up in front of the hotel. Irina straightened her back, squared her shoulders and opened the car door.

Before stepping out, she addressed her driver. "Thank you, Alphonse."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Derevko." The driver gave her a small nod and a polite smile as she stepped out of the vehicle. Within a minute a bellboy had her two suitcases in hand and she stepped through the front doors. She stopped for a second, looked around and then continued to the reception, the bellboy securely in toe. When she reached the front desk she gave the young boy there a wide smile and quickly started speaking in English layered with a strong British accent.

"Hello, darling," The boy melted at her smile even before she started to talk. "I would like to rent, as you say it, a room with a view."

It took the receptionist a few seconds before he realized he should speak. "Of course, madam." He answered back in sloppy English. "Do you have a booking?"

"No. You see, I came here to visit my baby boy. He's a businessman here. I was supposed to stay with him as I am here, but came out that his wife isn't out of town as she was supposed to be. And there is no chance that I am staying under one roof with that woman. She hates me and wishes my death." Her statements were pointed with almost comical hand-movements.

"Oh, I see." The young boy showed surprising compassion. "The room with the best view is our Royal suite. There are also other rooms with spectacular views-"

"Does the suite have a view on the Eiffel Tower?" She tapped her bright red nails on the counter.

"Yes-"

"Then I'll take it!" The woman stated with a wide smile. She slid her credit card along with her ID across the counter.

"How long are you staying?" The receptionist asked.

"A week." She smiled sweetly.

A few seconds later the boy handed the cards back to her. "Here you are, Mrs. Smith. The suite is yours."

"Thank you, sweetheart!" She turned towards the elevators and motioned the bellboy to follow her.

A few minutes later Irina slammed her hotel suite door shut after giving the bellboy a generous tip. She slumped against the door with exhaustion. She pulled back with a hiss as her side had painfully connected with the handle.

Slowly she walked towards the room, which seemed to be the bedroom, pulling off her pantsuit jacket on the way. Toeing off her high heels, she slumped on the king-sized bed. She wasn't so much needing sleep but rather comfortable silence.

The sunset in Paris found Irina sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with heaps of papers surrounding her. After focusing long on one paper and making sure she wasn't missing anything, she moved to another. She had sat there for two hours in the same position, only from time to time shifting slightly, seemingly to relieve the pressure on her injury. She had changed from the high-maintenance pantsuit into a black tracksuit and pulled her hair back into a hasty bundle.

The papers she was so immersed in contained all the information she had got her hands on about Salvatore Puccenelli. Over all the man came across to her as a legitimate jeweller, nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary. Figuring that in the morning she would feel better and more fit to do some strategizing, she gathered the papers into manila folders and set them on the table. Irina turned off the lights in the room and crawled under the covers.

The hotel suite was engulfed in silence, as the room's only occupant was soundly asleep. That was the reason she hadn't heard the door carefully being opened and a tall figure stepping in. Only when the intruder was a few steps away from the bed, Irina woke. In one quick move she had bolted upright on the bed and holding a knife, which she had pulled from underneath her pillow. The person next to the bed took a quick step back and held her hands up in silent surrender.

"It's me."

Irina lowered the knife and flicked on the lamp beside the bed. "Elena, what are doing here?" She breathed in relief.

"I heard that you arrived earlier than expected." Elena sat on the side of the bed, carefully observing her younger sister. She decided to let the comment on the knife slide, mostly because she had the same quirk.

"And you decided to break into my hotel room?" Irina cocked an eyebrow.

"Seemed like a good idea." Elena's smile vanished as she saw the grimace of pain as Irina tried to sit up more properly on the bed. "What's wrong?" She asked alert.

"Nothing." Irina tried to wave her off.

"Irina, I've known you for fifty years. Something is wrong." Elena's tone held no room for argument. "Show me."

Irina huffed in annoyance, but still lifted up the hem of her blouse and showed Elena the long bandage covering her side, although reluctantly.

"Somebody should crown you as queen of understatements." Elena said as she carefully prodded the edges of Irina's bandage with her fingers.

"I'll live." Irina let go of the blouse and it covered her bandage again.

"What happened?" Elena questioned.

"Somebody shot me." Irina answered flippantly.

"Where?"

"In London. It seemed to me like an ordered hit." Irina burrowed her brow.

"Why do you think that?" Elena asked. Irina could almost see the wheels starting to whirl methodically in her head.

"It seemed too clean to be a coincidence. Well, almost too clean, considering the fact that the shooter is dead and I'm still alive." Irina glanced down for a second and then shifted her gaze back to her sisters'.

"How are my assets in Spain?" Irina asked with a lighter voice to shift the focus from her dance with fate to Elena's trip.

"All very fine and all willing to follow your orders." Elena adapted the same tone of voice as Irina's.

"Good to know." Irina paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the hotel suite master bedroom. "There's a second bedroom across the living area. You're welcome to use it."

"I'll take you up on that." Elena stood up and walked out of the room, bidding goodnight.

"When I want something done, I want it done without any objections! That is why I am paying you." Irina's voice didn't rise, but the harshness in it made her point get through very clearly even on the other side of the phone call. The person who she was talking through flinched slightly and tried to say something, but before he could utter a word, Irina had snapped her phone shut and tossed it next to her on the couch.

It was an early morning, the sun was shining and Irina had opened the balcony doors to let the soft summer breeze in. At the moment she was sitting cross-legged on a plush couch in the middle of the living area, making phone calls as she waited for her coffee to reach the temperature that didn't make her mouth burn.

"Trouble with underlings?"

Irina sharply looked behind her and spotted Elena walking towards her with a slightly humorous look on her face. Irina shook her head and waved her hand vaguely indicating that it wasn't worth talking about.

"Coffee." Irina pointed to the healthily stocked breakfast cart, which was standing near the door.

Elena poured herself a cup of coffee, at the moment foregoing the breakfast pastries and sat next to her sister. "How's the side?" She grimaced as the coffee scalded her mouth.

"Good." Irina was looking through a heavy file and not paying much attention to Elena.

"Your day started with a painkiller-caffeine cocktail, didn't it?" Elena smirked as she noticed Irina's relaxed expression.

"Oh yeah." The statement was punctuated by a devilish grin.

"Come, I'll change your dressing." Elena grabbed both of their cups, set them on the table before them, ignoring Irina's protests.

"I'm fine." Irina managed to mutter, but snapped her mouth abruptly shut as she saw the annoyed look on older woman's face. No wise person would go against Elena Derevko at this early hour without a certain desire to get gutted. There was a reason why Elena was known as the scariest Derevko.

"What did you find out in London?" Elena disappeared into the bathroom and returned a minute later with a first-aid kit.

"I found out who owns the opals." Elena didn't say anything; she was carefully tearing away the old bandage. Despite her delicacy, Irina flinched slightly, but neither of the sisters commented on it. "A jewel merchant, works for no one we know, completely legitimate."

"When do you leave?" Elena poured some antiseptic onto a sterile cotton pad and softly patted it on the stitched up tear across her sister's side. Irina bit the inside of her cheek.

"Not yet, the phone call I made." Irina mentioned the previous call. "An old contact of Sloane seems to be wanting to rat on him. Wants to set up a meeting and give me some information."

"For free?" Elena's incredulous look mirrored Irina's own.

"Of course not, but that's not the point. And before you say anything that would insult both of us, yes, I know it is probably a trap. But any information on Sloane is worth the risk."

"Need any backup?" Elena took a fresh bandage and carefully laid it over the ugly gash.

"Would be nice."

"You've got to be careful, you're not in your twenties anymore." Elena closed the kit and moved off the couch.

"Are you hinting that I'm old?" Irina asked with a look that said 'look who's talking'.

"You're fifty, you're daughter's nearing thirty. You're middle-aged." Elena clenched her teeth together to keep from laughing.

"Elena?"

"What?"

"How many hundred-year-olds do you know?" Laughter filled the room as the women prepared for brainstorming.

_CIA Headquarters, Los Angeles_

Jack sat in his office, completely focusing on his computer. A few hours ago he had received an offer concerning Arvin Sloane. An old contact of his was willing to tell him everything he knew about the man's operations. Jack was ninety nine percent sure it was a set-up, but the chance that they could get something on Sloane was too precious to ignore.

His new freedom was warmly welcomed: a few days ago he had received permission from Langley to run some black ops by himself as he saw fit.

He heard a knock and glanced up to see Sydney poking her head through the door. "You asked to see me?" She asked.

"Yes, come in." Jack gestured her to enter.

"I'll be gone for a few days. I'm meeting an old contact to get information on Sloane." Jack arranged some paperwork on his desk.

"Why didn't you say anything during briefing?" Sydney raised an eyebrow.

"It's not a CIA mission, per say." Sydney sat up straighter. "I got permission from Langley to run some 'black ops' on my own if necessary as capturing Sloane is the most important." Jack explained.

"And you need back-up?"

"Yes." Jack didn't feel the need to specify why.

"When do we leave?" Sydney smiled.

Paris 

"When?" Irina spoke to her cell phone. "Where? Tell that the meeting is set." She ended the phone call and set it down on the floor beside her. Discarding the papers on Puccenelli, as she knew them by heart, she settled on watching Elena pacing as she was quickly spoke into her phone.

"What did Katya say?" Irina asked when she ended that call and sat down on the floor opposite from her.

"She received a coded email from Julian saying that his meeting with Sloane went successfully and their new business arrangement is set." Irina looked pleased. "What are researching here?" Elena craned her neck to see what the papers around Irina contained.

"Information on Puccenelli, not important right now. The meeting with the contact has been set." Irina swiftly changed to topic. "Tonight."

"So quickly?"

"He seemed nervous and very willing to talk. No reason to wait." Irina shook her head.

"If you say so." Elena's expression said nothing as she opened her laptop and started typing.

"How's Alex doing?" Irina asked after a few minutes of silence.

"You know her, she pretends that nothing bothers her, but in reality she's devastated." Irina nodded along to Elena's description. "She thinks that everything is supposed to get easier every year and when she realizes that it doesn't, she feels vulnerable. She hates being vulnerable, so she pretends that everything is in perfect order."

"It's her defensive mode, her way of dealing with things." Irina shrugged her shoulders a bit.

"Reminds me of someone else I know." Elena bore her eyes into Irina.

Irina had no response to that.

"Do you know why I agreed to help you with all of this?" Elena leaned slightly forward. "When you came to me saying that you needed my help to save Sydney, destroy Sloane and put an end to the effect Rambaldi's works have on the world, I first thought you had gone off the deep end. You very often do things that cross the line between reckless and purely suicidal, but you still are my sister and despite whatever unreasonable stunts you decide to pull thinking that you are indestructible, I love you." When Irina tried to intervene, she held up her hand. "Don't interrupt, you get only one heartfelt confession from me. I know you stopped listening to my advice when you were twelve, but being your older sister gives me the right to give you my world-wise knowledge."

Irina kept herself from rolling her eyes as Elena delivered her last sentence with a great amount of sarcasm. "Although the only feeling I harbour towards the man are unpleasant, Jack Bristow seems to be in your heart. I'm not going to pretend I know why, or even how. But in over twenty years I haven't seen you truly and unconditionally happy and I have figured that Sydney isn't the only person you miss. Maybe you should start trusting other people and believe that you aren't the only person who can fix everything that is wrong in the world." With that Elena ended her speech and turned back to her computer.

It was very rare when Irina didn't have a response to somebody, but this was one of those times. Her sister's words had hit the right spot and shocked her with the amount of truthfulness was buried in them. Elena wasn't the person who expressed her feelings, let alone verbally. Irina herself had seen that on a few rare occasions, most of them with Alex. She smiled discreetly as she realized that Elena had showed her softer side to her.

Jack took his place on the second floor of the abandoned building. He was sitting next to the window that looked over the narrow alley. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had fifteen minutes before anybody would arrive. The information he had got was shaky at the very best, but it was the only lead they had at the moment. His contact had told him that this old business partner of Sloane was in town and meeting someone. Jack's plan was to apprehend the man after his meeting and make him talk. Sydney was stationed three blocks away, observing the meet from a safe distance.

Irina tied the knot of her black drench coat. Somehow she was feeling that something was off, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"You're ready?" Elena asked. She was sitting in the back of the van behind some computers. The meeting was too secretive to include her employees.

"Is he there?" Irina turned towards the computers.

"No- wait, he has arrived. Your turn." Elena looked at her sister. "Be careful." She stressed the words. Irina just rolled her eyes and stepped out of the vehicle.

She turned the corner and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "He seemed nervous." Elena's voice cracked through the intercom. "Fidgeting and paranoid." Distaste could be heard from her voice.

"Understandable. I'm a scary person." Irina commented with a smirk.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not as badass as you like to think you are." Elena grumbled.

"Then how come is half the world afraid of me?" Irina challenged. Receiving no answer she changed the subject. "Going radio-silent." She said as she turned into the alley. She saw the man nervously making steps, not being able to stay still.

"Mrs. Derevko." He extended his hand.

"Hr. Luther." She took it. "You wanted to talk-" Irina moved slightly to the side, but before she could continue, gunshots echoed through the alley. She saw the man slump to the ground. "Damn it!" Irina dashed down the street. These kinds of situations seemed to be constant in her life lately.

Jack saw his newest contact arrive in the alley, and a few minutes later, someone else. Because the person stayed in the shadows, he couldn't see their face, but by their posture he figured it was a woman. Just as he was about to turn on the mikes through which he could listen to the conversation, he saw the man collapse to the ground, dead.

"Shit!" Almost tripping on his chair, he bolted from it and descended the stairs as fast as he could. He opened the door to the alley just as the mystery woman darted past it. Due to some instinct he couldn't define he grabbed the woman at the waist and pulled inside. She stumbled slightly as she was knocked out of balance, causing them to crash into the wall with the woman pinned between the wall and Jack. The woman hissed silently when her back violently connected with the wall. Both turned their heads to the side as they heard the door click shut behind them and tried to make out any sound.

Finally when they were sure that emptiness echoed on the alley, Jack turned to see whom he had exactly saved and his breath caught in his throat.

"Irina?"

TBC


	10. One Night In Paris

**Chapter 10**

_Paris, France_

_"Irina?"_

Jack's eyes seemed to be drilling a hole in her as he tried to overcome the shock of seeing her.

When they had fallen through the doorway, Jack had grabbed Irina's upper arms and pressed them to the wall to steady both of them. His hold on her instantly tightened when he saw who was pinned between him and the wall.

Irina was suddenly very aware of herself as she looked in Jack's eyes: her side was searing with pain as it had violently collided with the wall behind her. The grip he had on her indicated that she wouldn't be leaving this situation without a fight and the fact that her body was flush against Jack was the most prominent and the most unimportant. _'Focus, Irina.'_

"Jack-" She tried tentatively.

Before she could say anything further, Jack had pressed one of his hands on her mouth to silence her. Irina glared at him murderously, but soon realized why he had silenced her: steps echoed through the alley.

They stared each other right in the eye while carefully listening to the potential threat on the other side of the wall. As the steps faded again, Jack decided that staying by the door wasn't exactly wise.

He grabbed Irina's arms and pulled her down the narrow corridor away from the door. She was too bemused to show resistance and just tried to stay upright. When they were a safe distance from the door, Jack pinned Irina against the wall, but now he wisely put some distance between their bodies. He had apparently focused a lot quicker than her.

"Jack, I'm as surprised as you are." Irina grimaced mentally. It had come out even more pathetically as it had sounded in her mind.

"I'm not so sure about that." Jack bit out tersely.

"Yes, I planned to get almost killed." Irina jabbed sarcastically. "Don't be an idiot." She added after a shot pause.

"The question still remains: what are you doing here?" Jack asked through clenched teeth. Two minutes with the woman and she was infuriating him already.

Irina contemplated on whether to speak the truth or not, but deciding that telling Jack the truth was the best plan, as he might recognize a lie. "I am- I was meeting a contact." She corrected herself.

Jack didn't look convinced. "What are _you_ doing here?" She asked him curiously.

Jack ignored her question and asked one of his own. "I heard that your partnership with Sloane ended abruptly. Why is that?" It was difficult to decide if sarcasm or menace was prominent in his voice.

"Sloane and I were never partners." Irina scoffed and looked him straight in the eye trying to make him see that she was telling him the truth.

"The whole American Intelligence got the wrong impression? Sloane didn't extract you from CIA custody?" Jack hissed angrily.

"Looks can be deceiving." Irina answered steadily.

"Aren't you the epitome of that fact?" Jack narrowed his eyes.

"How is Sydney?" Irina knew that the question would infuriate him even more, but she had to ask.

"Now you're interested in her well-being?" Jack's voice was incredulous.

"I have always been interested in her well-being." 'And yours.' She added mentally.

"When was that: the time you shot her or the time you had her best friend killed and replaced with a clone?" Jack asked darkly.

"I had nothing to do with Francine Calfo's death." Irina objected.

"Doubtful." He responded.

"Believe what you want Jack, but I didn't know the double's identity until I hear that you had arrested the clone." She dropped her chin slightly. "I hoped to uncover her identity sooner, but I was unsuccessful."

"How convenient for you!" Jack snorted.

"You want to see me as the source of all evil in this world? Fine by me, but stop acting like you're as pure as the first snow. You put Sydney in Project Christmas to protect her although it might hurt her in the future. Why can't you understand that I do things that might hurt our daughter, but in the end they are the reasons why she is still alive?" Irina's exasperation was clearly visible.

"Don't compare our situations, Irina! They are nothing alike." He told her.

"As I said: believe whatever you want!" She said tersely, but when she continued her voice was softer. "Thank you for… saving my life, Jack. But I really must get going." She couldn't resist saying the last part.

Whatever she imagined Jack's reaction to be, it was nothing what she had expected. Jack pushed her elbows more securely against the wall and moved his body flush against hers.

His breath was hot against her cheek when he spoke. "You seriously can't think that there is a slightest chance that I will let you walk out of here? Your cell has a new occupant but I think you'll find the neighbouring cell just as delightful."

Even later Irina couldn't understand what had propelled her to make such a move. The words Jack had said couldn't be classified as pleasant but still the next thing Irina knew was that her lips were covering his in a passionate kiss. The fact that Jack was kissing her back with the same insensitivity was more surprising than the act itself.

Jack didn't know why he was kissing her back. Was it out of spite? Out of revenge? He refused to admit it was out of anything else.

The kiss seemed to increase in passion with every passing minute. It took Irina a few minutes to remind herself not to get lost in the heat of the moment. Well, _too_ lost.

Slowly and unnoticeably Irina leaned back on the wall with her whole body with Jack leaning forward, as if breaking the kiss was not an option. Suddenly Irina's leg shot up and her foot connected with his knee, making him stumble and loosen his grip on her. Wrenching her arms free, Irina pushed Jack backwards with great force. He staggered but regained his footing sooner than Irina expected. Jack ducked a right hook and hit her right side at which made Irina gasp for air.

Jack frowned, his punch hadn't been that harsh and Irina's tolerance in pain was a lot higher than that. He threw that thought out of his mind for the moment as Irina's foot made contact with his chest, forcing him against the opposite wall, struggling for breath. Before he could counter Irina's elbow hit his left temple and he lost consciousness.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone but for a moment he saw regret in Irina's eyes as she watched him slide to the floor. On second thought… Not likely.

When Jack had lost consciousness, Irina grabbed the wall and leaned forward, gasping for air. Jack's punch to her side had knocked the wind out of her; she'd give him that. After a few moments her breathing grew regular and the stars started to fade.

Looking at Jack, Irina dropped to her knees and reached for Jack. "I'm sorry, Jack. But truth takes time, and that time isn't over yet." She ran her fingers down his jaw line. "Wait for me a little longer and I'll return to you." She whispered to the empty room. She placed a feather light kiss on his lips and then quickly pulled herself up. This wasn't time for weaknesses.

With stealth she rushed out of the building. "Elena, we have a problem."

Sydney had been stationed three blocks away in an empty apartment. She was monitoring the meeting their target and his contact were supposed to have. She and her father had placed a camera in the alley an hour before and some microphones. Their original plan was just to apprehend their contact and let the other person go, because it was highly unlikely it was someone they were familiar with.

Sydney had seen their target walk in the alley, very nervous and jumpy. Soon after that his contact had arrived. Sydney didn't see the face, but by the figure and posture she understood that it was a woman. Her walk had seemed oddly familiar to Sydney but she couldn't understand who it was.

As quickly as the meeting had started, it ended only mere seconds after the mystery woman had appeared in the alley. Sydney watched in shock as the man dropped dead to the ground and the woman made a dash down the alley. She didn't see her father pull the woman through the door of the building, for the camera had been placed further into the alley.

Sydney quickly realized that the shot had come from the building roof and hurried there. But when she arrived there it was as empty as she expected it to be. She walked to the edge of the roof and looked down on the small alley. It had the perfect view to it and the dead man was still in view. She turned back and wanted to leave the roof but she saw a glimmer of metal. Sydney walked closer to the object and crouched down.

On closer observation she saw that it was a bullet casing belonging to a rifle. Not a big help, but it was something. Putting it into her pocket Sydney tried to contact her father.

"Dad, do you copy?" She took the last look on the roof and then descended down the ladder.

When she got no response, she tried again. "Dad?" Feeling slight panic flow into her, she rushed to his observing station.

She found him one floor below his original spot, unconscious. "Dad!" She ran to him and dropped to her knees. "Are you alright?" She shook him by the shoulder and sighed in relief and he groaned.

After a few seconds he opened his eyes and focused them on his daughter.

"Are you hurt?" She asked him worriedly.

"I'm fine." He tried to soothe her. Gathering his strength, he pushed himself on his elbows and instantly regretted it as a headache hit him with full force.

"Dad." Jack saw that Sydney was not pleased with his answer.

"I will be fine." He objected.

"What happened?" She asked as she helped him sit up.

"Irina happened." Jack said with a blank to as he leaned his back against the cold brick wall.

"What?" Sydney's voice was pitched and Jack's headache did not appreciate it. "What do you mean?" She lowered her voice.

"Sydney, you saw the meet." Jack pointed out while slowly massaging his temples.

"You mean Davids was meeting mom?" Sydney rocked back on her heels.

"Yes." Came his answer.

"And mom knocked you out?" Deep brown eyes were set on Jack, reminding him of Irina.

"To cut the story short, yes." Jack refrained himself from rolling his eyes.

"Give me the long story on the plane?" Sydney stood up and offered her hand to her father.

"After a few aspirins, sure." He answered.

"Who hired you?" A calm voice asked from a bound man.

When Irina had contacted Elena, she told her an address in the neighbourhood and nothing else. When she had arrived at the location provided by her older sister, she saw her standing over a bound and obviously petrified man. Irina put quickly two and two together and realized that that was the man who had killed her contact. Now she was watching Elena trying to make the man talk. He was surprisingly resistant. But then again, neither of the sisters had got their knives out yet.

"Let's try another question. Why did you kill Davids?" Elena leaned closer to the man.

"I wasn't supposed to kill him." The man answered.

"Who then?" Irina asked crossing her arms in front of her. Instead of a self-protecting move it seemed a lot more threatening.

"You." He didn't even consider the answer.

"Now I'm going to ask you again and I want an honest answer." Elena took hold of the man's broken wrist and squeezed a little, making the man whimper. "Who hired you?"

Not a word came out of the man's mouth.

Irina shrugged and walked out of the man's line of view behind his back. Instinctively he prepared himself for a wave of pain that didn't come. Unsuccessfully he tried to pinpoint her location by sound.

Irina had sat down twenty feet behind the man, closing her eyes in the attempt to stop the room from spinning. She rested her hand on her right side underneath her coat in attempt to soothe the pain. Sharply she pulled her hand back and saw blood on her fingertips. Her stitches had been probably been ripped open.

When the man looked back at the older sister before him, he saw with horror that a knife had appeared in her hand.

"Tell me what I want to know and it will be over." She said as if she was talking to a kindergartener, although her patience was running short already.

"Go to hell." He responded through clenched teeth.

Without hesitation Elena plunged the knife into the man's left knee, eliciting a scream out of him.

"I want a name." She turned the knife just a bit.

"Sloane." The man sobbed five minutes later.

That got Irina's attention. She stood up and stepped in front of the man.

"Arvin Sloane?" She asked him, although she had heard him clearly before.

"Yes. You're dead, Derevko." He started to laugh hysterically.

"Join the club." In a flash Irina pulled a gun from her waistband and fired a bullet to his forehead.

"Sloane really wants you dead." Elena turned her eyes from the dead man to her sister.

"Was there any doubt?" Irina's answer lacked the humour it was supposed to have. Her arm fell to her side still clutching the gun.

"Let's go." Elena pulled Irina towards the door. She just nodded and followed her.

_Beijing, China_

Working for a member of your family sucks.

That was the conclusion Julian Derevko had come to a long time ago when he had first agreed to be Irina's right hand in her operations. At least something of that kind, because even after all this time he never understood how deeply his mother and Elena were involved with Irina's operations. At first it seemed like Irina was running it single-handedly. But soon he discovered that most of 'The Man's' contacts were a mesh of the three sisters' connections. He was never able to completely unravel all the layers of secrecy.

Luckily, everyone else understood things a lot less than him. Alexander Khasinau for instance never knew that Irina was even in contact with her sisters, let alone that they enforced the organization greatly with combined efforts. He always knew Irina was good, but lately he had started to understand exactly how good she really was.

During all the time he had worked 'for' her he had been in many dangerous situations. For example the time Arvin Sloane dragged him down to the 'conversation room' at SD-6. And Irina had some serious issues with information sharing. His nose still hurt from the time Michael Vaughn smashed it twice into a glass table. It was understandable that he was happy to do that. Shooting him hadn't been the brightest idea he had had in his life, although he knew he was wearing a Kevlar.

Julian slowly made his way through the crowd at the hotel lobby towards the restaurant. He was clutching a black suitcase, which contained a file that would hopefully make Sloane very pleased and busy for the next couple of weeks. The file was full of bogus names and locations that were connected with Rambaldi. The plan was to give Sloane something to concentrate on while Julian, being the only one with enough access to Sloane's files, located the place where Sloane held the Il Dire.

Seeing that his newest business partner had yet to arrive, Julian picked a dimmer part of the restaurant, sat down and ordered a nice glass of Chardonnay. Just because you're planning to destroy a criminal network doesn't mean you can't enjoy little pleasures in life.

About five minutes later Sloane arrived. He located Julian rather easily and headed towards him.

"If this were a date, I would say you're late." Julian quipped foregoing greetings.

Sloane glared at the younger man but didn't say a word. Instead he ordered a different brand of wine.

"I'm glad to see that you haven't lost your sense of humour, Mr. Sark." He finally retorted.

"It would be difficult to work in this business if I did." Julian slowly sipped his wine.

"True," Sloane agreed. He set his wine glass on the table and turned serious. "I hope I didn't come all the way here for small talk."

Julian smirked and reached for his suitcase. He entered the proper unlocking code and handed Sloane the black manila file. "It's not a lot, but I think it will prove my trustworthiness." He said nonchalantly.

Sloane examined the file superficially but smiled in satisfaction. "On the contrary, Mr. Sark: it is quite a lot of information." He didn't take his eyes off the file. "May I ask how did you attain this information? This isn't common knowledge." He indicated to the file in his hands.

"When Mrs. Derevko spent time in CIA custody I ran her organization. When she returned she took hold of it again, but many of her former associates are more loyal to me than her." Julian said slowly and confidently. "You can say that her armour has quite a number of chinks in it."

"That is very interesting." Sloane seemed to consider his words.

"Why do you say that?" Julian asked calmly.

"When we first met you were very loyal to Irina." He pointed out.

"Mr. Sloane, haven't we been over this already?" Julian took a sip of his wine.

"Indeed, we have, but I like to have my bases covered." Sloane stood slowly. "Unfortunately I must get going. I hope you received my message with the proper Intel."

Julian nodded and stood up as well. The two men shook hands and once again left in different directions.

Sydney slowly became aware of her surroundings. The soft hum of the airplane motors reminded her that she was on a private jet returning to Los Angeles. The last thing she remembered was reading a book with the over-head light. Now the light was off, her book was on the seat next to her closed, but her place was marked and a light blanket was covering her.

The whole concept didn't make sense to her for a moment, but when she saw her father reading a file a few seats ahead, it became clear. She smiled softly as she carefully folded the blanket and set in on top of her book. Then she pushed herself up from her seat and walked towards her father.

Sitting across from him she noticed that his temple was turning into a nice shade of blue.

"It seemed like you needed the rest." Jack raised his eyes to Sydneys' and closed the file.

"Yeah, I've been too distracted to sleep lately." Sydney offered a small explanation.

"You should take better care of yourself. Sleep is important." Her wish to give him a satisfying answer had the reverse effect.

"How much do you rest, dad?" She shot back without any menace.

"That's a different matter." Jack said.

Sydney refrained herself from rolling her eyes. Her father was almost predictable sometimes.

"How's Tippin doing?" He asked.

Or not so predictable.

"He's doing okay. He'll be released the day after tomorrow. Why?" Sydney frowned at her father's sudden interest in her friends.

"He should be put in Witness Protection Program until Sloane is caught." Jack explained.

"Is that necessary?" Sydney knew that Will would be safer in WPP but she didn't want to lose another close friend at the moment.

"It's not very likely that Sloane will come after Tippin, but it's an option he should at least consider. His dealings with Sark and Sloane have not been pleasant."

"Still, I don't think he'll agree to that." Sydney told him.

Jack nodded; it had been the kind of response he had expected.

"You want to tell me what happened in the warehouse?" Sydney prodded after a few minutes of silence.

"Not much to tell. I pulled her off the alley, she thanked me and knocked me out." Jack said seriously.

"Dad." Sydney said in a slightly reprimanding voice.

Jack sighed and started again, this time hopefully giving Sydney an answer she would be satisfied with. "When I saw Davids had been shot I thought that his contact would agree to share some information if they had. When I realized it was your mother I had pulled into the warehouse," Jack ignored Sydney's interested look. "I made it difficult for her to leave. She didn't appreciate it and after a short fight she had the chance to render me unconscious and she took it. That's it." Jack knew that Sydney was too stubborn to let the subject drop.

"Did she say anything?"

"She thanked me for saving her life." Jack answered.

"You said that already." Sydney reminded him hoping he would shed more light onto what happened between her parents.

"She told me that she had nothing to do with your friends death, which seems to be consistent with Doren's statements." Jack answered with a steely voice.

"Do you believe her?" Sydney asked unsurely. She would like to believe that her mother had been telling the truth more than anything, because that would be too awful for her to accept.

"Yes." Jack wasn't completely sure if he did but the relieved look on Sydney's face was worth agreeing with Irina Derevko for once.

TBC


	11. Teach Me How To Grieve

**Chapter 11**

_One Week Later, Los Angeles, Jack Bristow's Residence_

Broad daylight filled the apartment that was empty of any living soul. The clock above the mantelpiece showed that the time was 11.50 a.m. For hours now the apartment was void of any sounds, but that suddenly changed as a small noise came from the front door.

Slowly the front door lock was carefully opened. A key wasn't used, but the newcomer made sure that the lock didn't show any markings of a break in. Cautiously the intruder crept into the apartment although it was clear that there was no one beside them there.

After carefully looking around the apartment the intruder walked to the coffee table in the living room. A photo album was pulled out of their back bag and set on the table. A minute later a small note was set upon to album.

Making sure that nothing else than the album and the note was left of the visit, the intruder exited the apartment and disappeared into the Los Angeles sun.

_Vaughn's apartment, hours later_

"I like when you cook." Strong arms snaked around Sydney's waist who was standing behind a stove. Sydney stopped stirring the pasta in the pot and turned around in his arms to face him.

"You won't say that when you taste the food." She tipped her head slightly to the side.

Vaughn laughed silently. "Syd, are you saying that you can disable ten different types of explosives, but you can't make pasta?"

"More than twenty as a matter of fact, and no, I didn't say I can't cook, I'm saying that most of the time, my cooking ends in the trash bin." Sydney entwined her fingers behind Vaughn's neck.

"I believe in your cooking skills." Vaughn smiled.

"Well, you are the only one." She shook her head slightly as the smile on her face widened.

"Hey, hey! Cool it, guys." Weiss entered the kitchen with Will walking a few feet behind him.

"I knew that giving you the key was a mistake." Vaughn grumbled, as he and Sydney pulled apart.

"You weren't answering the door." Weiss shrugged innocently.

"I didn't hear the doorbell." Vaughn shot back without any malice.

"That's because he knocked like once and then pulled out his key." Will commented smirking at the two friends' antics as he carefully sat down on the of the kitchen counter stools.

"I was worried that the two of you would forget the food as soon as you have time for yourselves. So I decided to save the pasta." Weiss explained and then pulled open the fridge door. "Want a drink?" He held up a beer bottle.

"You're offering me my own beer." Vaughn pointed out.

"And your point being?" Weiss raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind. Give me a beer." He shook his head. "I need to change my locks." He whispered so only Sydney could hear. She bit back a laugh and told him quietly to be nice.

"What did the doctor say, Will?" Sydney asked her friend as she turned back to the burning simmers.

"He said that my recovery is remarkable and that I'm healing quite nicely. My physical therapy is starting next week, but I won't be able to return to work anytime soon." He explained. "Since I'm not coming to work any time soon, tell me the inner-office gossip." He leaned conspiratorially forward.

"Well, there isn't much to tell. But Kendall is getting more and more unbearable by the day." Weiss said after taking a swig from his beer.

"Why?" Will asked.

"Jack is in charge and will be until Sloane, Sark and Derevko are captured. And Kendall is not pleased with that." Sydney pursed her lips when she heard Weiss mention her mother but no other visible signs were seen that she was still bothered by her mother's status on the CIA's Most Wanted List.

"And he snaps at everyone who gets near him." Vaughn piped up. "He nearly took Marshall's head off when he asked him a minor detail of a mission."

"I felt sorry for the poor guy, he still doesn't understand who is the boss." Weiss shrugged. "Frankly neither do I."

"But it seems like Marshall and Carrie are developing something." Sydney turned around with a slight smile.

"Really?" Will raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, they have left work together for the last week. And I think I heard Marshall mentioning something about introducing her to his mother." She moved to take the plates out of the cupboard.

"Poor woman." Weiss commented.

"I think they're cute together. She seems to like him sincerely." She scowled slightly at Weiss, but the scowl soon turned into a smile.

"Good for Marshall." Will raised his bottle in honour of the man, as did Weiss and Vaughn.

"Ok, guys, food's ready. I'll bring the food, go to the table." She ushered them out of the kitchen and into the living room, where the dining table was set. Weiss and Will followed the given orders as Sydney puttered around the kitchen taking out several serving plates.

Seeing that Vaughn was still in the kitchen observing her, she turned around. Her intentions to scold him disappeared when she saw him smile widely. "What?" She asked bemused.

"It's nice." He answered shortly, his smile seemingly fixed on his face.

"What is nice?" Sydney was lightly annoyed for having to repeat herself.

"You knowing where everything is in my kitchen. And the rest of the apartment." He walked to her.

"I know where everything is because I've been living with you for the past two weeks." Sydney stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I like it." Vaughn leaned down for a quick kiss.

"Mr. Vaughn, are insinuating that certain activities due to my living in this apartment are enjoyable to you?" Sydney asked with a cheeky smile that showed off her dimples.

"That too, but I was more interested in asking if you'd like to move in with me." He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Move in with you?" Sydney asked a bit confused.

"Well, we spend every awake moments at work and away from work together. And you don't seem too anxious to move back to your old apartment either. So I was wondering if you'd like to move in permanently." Vaughn looked deeply in Sydney's eyes.

"Seriously?" She refrained herself from smiling.

"Yes." He answered. "Besides, you have been reorganizing my apartment during those two weeks."

Sydney swatted his shoulder playfully. "That's because you think clothes splayed over the bedroom floor is considered a horizontal closet."

"That's my belief and I refuse to let it go." Vaughn settled his hands on her waist and pulled her closer.

"We'll see about that." Sydney shook her head but made no indication that she wasn't happy with their proximity in the small kitchen.

"So, what do you think? You, me, living together?" Vaughn nudged her slightly.

She couldn't keep the smile off her face any longer and nodded her head vigorously. "I think it's a great plan if you're absolutely sure about it." She seemed a bit doubtful despite her excitement.

"I wouldn't ask you if I weren't a hundred percent positive about it."

"Then I think I would love to move in with you, Michael." Sydney stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"Hey, you called me Michael." Vaughn said smilingly after she pulled back and rested her forehead against his.

"Yeah, I need to practise that. Don't expect it to absolute from now on, but I can't call you Vaughn forever." Sydney bumped her nose against his.

"Forever?" He asked.

"Unless you have other plans." She said without conviction.

"Not in a million years." Vaughn leaned down to kiss her again but a mock-angry Weiss clearing his voice interrupted the kiss.

"I realize that I encouraged you two to date and all, but seriously if you keep going this way then you'll starve to death very soon." He lectured.

Sydney and Vaughn laughed a little and then pulled apart. Taking the dishes they moved from the kitchen to the living room with smile plastered on both of their faces.

_The next day, England_

Grey clouds hid the blue sky and the bright sun from the people. It wasn't raining but it seemed that it might at any minute.

A woman was standing in front of a double gravesite. Her posture was too rigid and her jaw was too harshly set for her to be at ease. Her long dark brown hair was pulled into a tight French braid and the gloomy weather did nothing to soften her light skin tone.

Slowly she kneeled in front of the tombstone and her fingers traced the words on it. Then she set two bouquets of flowers on the grave as she looked sadly at the names engraved there.

"I think of you every day. It doesn't make any difference where I am or what I'm doing. You're always in my heart and thoughts." Closing her eyes she whispered. "I miss you."

With that she stood up and walked away with her head down. Finally exiting the graveyard and closing the gate behind her she saw a very familiar person leaning on a car across the road looking seriously at her. Alex stopped for a minute, but when her mother stood up straight and started to say something, Alex shook her head and walked quickly to her, the last few steps rushed and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist, closing her eyes as she refused to cry.

"You're all here?" Alex asked as she still held her mother in a vice grip.

"Of course." It was the only thing Elena said as nothing more was needed.

After a few minutes Alex sat in the passenger seat of the car as her mother started the car steering it away from the curb.

The grave, which had two bouquets of beautiful roses, was yet again left alone in the middle of hundreds of similar ones. But the names on it differenced it from all the others as they represented beloved souls. Christopher Matthews and Chloe Madeline Matthews. A young man whose life ended too soon and a little girl who never lived.

_Los Angeles_

Jack walked through his front door and dropped his keys on the table in the hall. Sighing he took off his jacket and loosened his tie. That movement made no difference to his edginess that had built up during the day.

Without turning on the lights in the living room he headed for the bedroom where he placed his suitcase and jacket.

Heading to his study he loosened his tie and sat down in his armchair, pulling out a bottle of highly expensive whisky out of the bottom drawer of his desk. A-fifty-year-old whisky was perfect for mulling over his train-wreck of a life.

Jack really wasn't happy about his newly acquired position as the head of the Joint Task Force. Not only was Kendall prominently hot on his heels, but it didn't seem that he'd be relieved of the title anytime soon as Sloane, Sark nor Irina had taken any further actions that would help their capture.

Sloane and Sark seemed to have struck a deal and were once again partners. Neither had made any appearances for the past week and Jack was worried that Sloane was planning something that would entail a disaster. He had known the man for thirty years and every time Sloane would keep a low profile it would be like the quiet before the storm. It unsettled him and hoped they would catch him before he could endanger the world.

The other person completely bemusing him was Irina. Their sudden meeting a week ago had been surprising. Her statement that she was no longer working with Sloane made sense, but Jack was still far from believing it. The woman wasn't known for telling the truth.

He had figured that by this time Irina's network had to be fully active again, if it even went inactive during Irina's imprisonment. The names, locations and information she had given to the CIA during her debriefs were probably secondary in importance to her. It had made no sense to Jack, when she had literally walked through the Central Intelligence Agency's front doors, that Irina would openly give out the information that held her operation together. Now he was sure that her organization was as strong as and as hidden as it was before. He had to admit that she was a master planner.

But their encounter had genuinely seemed to surprise Irina and that bemused him. If it hadn't been Irina to set up both of them being there together, who had? Why was it important to have them both there to see a middleman being killed? Was it a warning for them?

Jack suddenly stopped his train of thought and sat up straight. He had come across an insane idea, but it was persistent enough for him to take him laptop and the disk, which held the all the information from the night in Paris.

He played the tape that recorded the shooting and watched as Irina made her way to the alley, greet the man and then suddenly dash down the alley after the man crumpled to the ground. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary but still something in the back of his mind told him to keep looking. Watching the tape play for the fifth man, he finally understood what he had missed. The second before Davids was killed Irina had moved slightly to the side.

Right away from the bullet's trajectory.

It dawned on him that the bullet wasn't meant for the man but Irina. Somebody had tried to kill her instead, and that somebody had wanted Jack to see it. For a moment worry crept up Jack's spine but he refused to admit it because being concerned for her well-being wasn't something he should be doing. But yet a small part of him hoped that whoever wanted Irina dead hadn't succeeded.

Silently berating himself he realized that once again when Irina was concerned problems arose. That had been like that ever since they met and had continued for over thirty years.

_Flashback _

_Los Angeles, 1971_

_Jack cursed silently for the fifth time as he was stuck behind another red light. He was late to his class, again. He gave up making up a cover story because whatever it was his lector wouldn't believe him anyway. _

_For the last few years he was working for the Central Intelligence Agency. Up until this far, his job at the CIA was strictly behind a desk, for he was not field rated, but three days ago it had changed. He had been sent on a field mission with a senior agent whose job was to break into a manor in Venice where a party was held. A listening device was supposed to be placed in the host's den, because he was suspected in illegal arms dealing through America. Jack was given orders to observe the party and to alert the agent if something went wrong. _

_Everything had gone fine until the older agent had been discovered. Jack had to make a quick decision and he disobeyed the orders he had been given. He had left his post and entered the manor the party had been held at. He had found the senior agent being brutally interrogated. Despite him being a field agent he still mastered quite a few fighting techniques, and he had swiftly knocked out the interrogators and freed the agent. They had escaped with minor difficulties and reached their extraction point. _

_Jack had expected to be reprimanded or even fired but what he hadn't seen coming was that the senior agent he had rescued had defended Jack's actions and now the young desk-rated agent was told that he had a series of tests ahead that could make him a field agent. It was a tremendous honour but then again it was very dangerous. Still, serving his country was something he had always wanted to do and now he had a chance to do that in ways he hadn't thought to be possible. _

_Finally the red light turned to green and he sped off, probably breaking a few laws. He figured that from the honking horns he heard. He slowed a bit down, for a man who wanted to serve his country shouldn't cause an accident of the freeway. A few hundred yards ahead he saw a car on the curb. Jack decided that some other driver could help the one in trouble but when he saw a mass of long dark brown hair tangled in the wind as the woman tried to understand what was wrong with the car, he decided to stop. To hell with his lector, he was already too late. _

_Stopping the car, he got out and started walking towards the woman as cars sped by. Jack saw the woman raise the hood of the car and lean nearer. From what he could see, he observed that the woman was in her early twenties maybe, tall, slim and had waves of dark tresses. He could make out a faint grumble 'Everything goes wrong in America!', but he wasn't sure. _

_Stepping up to the woman he asked. "Can I help you, Miss?"_

_The woman hadn't obviously heard him near as she bolted upright from her position leaning under the hood of the car, and promptly hit her head. _

"_Shit!" She exclaimed and pressed down on the spot where she had hit her head. _

"_I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Jack apologized frantically. _

"_I'm fine, I'm fine." The woman was still holding her head, but now she turned to look at him for the first time. _

_Jack was dumbstruck as he looked at the woman before him. She was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Her deep brown eyes were fascinating and it seemed they pierced him as she looked at him. The way she held herself was regal, to say at least, even though she was still clutching her head with one hand. She looked somewhat exotic and he was instantly bewitched. _

_The young woman's eyes widened as she looked at the driver who had stopped. She forgot to breathe for one moment and it seemed to Jack that she tensed for a few moments. _

"_Are you sure?" Jack was still worried that he had caused the woman some bodily injuries. _

"_Absolutely." She smiled disarmingly as she came out of her stance. Pulling her hand away from her head and holding it out for inspection she spoke. "No blood or anything." _

"_I didn't mean to scare you." Jack seemed slightly flustered. _

"_Oh, you didn't. I just didn't hear you. It takes a lot more to scare me." She on the other hand seemed completely composed. _

"_I'm Jack by the way. Jack Bristow." He remembered to introduce himself. _

"_Laura," She smiled. "Laura Jefferson." _

"_You have problems with the car?" Jack asked turning to the tons of metal people call a car. _

"_Yeah, and I can't seem to figure out what's wrong." Irina turned to the car. Jack didn't comment on the woman's common knowledge of engines, as it probably wouldn't be welcomed, and turned to the car as well. _

_End of Flashback_

Jack had never made it to class that day, but he did get a phone number on a napkin and encouragement to call. Back then he had thought himself to be the luckiest man on the planet.

Over the years he had never quite figured out whether their first meeting was unplanned or set up. He had spent a number of restless nights pondering over it, but then decided that for the sake of his sanity he should stop.

Jack put the tumbler back to its original place, slightly emptier than it was before, and walked out of the den, turning off the light on his way. He headed towards his bedroom, but something nagged in the back of his mind. Turning around and walking to the living room, he scanned it with his eyes. He almost berated himself for paranoia and turned on his heels, but he saw something out of place on his coffee table.

Drawing his gun from its holster he moved to the kitchen. Silently he berated himself for not being alert before. He figured that whoever was in his apartment wasn't there anymore, because if they were, he would probably be dead a long time ago. Finally making sure that there was no one in his apartment beside himself, he swiped the apartment for bugs, but found none, which didn't make sense.

Frowning, he made his way around the furniture and to the aforementioned table and examined the offending object. It seemed like an antique photo album, probably very expensive too. Jack carefully picked up the note and opened it. Calligraphic words adorned it.

'_One can never fully know another, but the only crime would be to stop trying.' _

Puzzled by the words, he set down the note and picked up the album. On the front page he saw a black and white photograph of a small child. The words below it made him sit in shock on the recliner behind him. 'Ирина, 1 месяц'

_England_

Irina looked at her niece thoughtfully as she was tending the wound on her side. Alex seemed oblivious to the rest of the world and that worried Irina.

"It seems that everything is in order. The stitches are slightly sloppy but considering that you made them yourself, I'm impressed." Alex finished cleaning the wound and reassembled the first aid kit.

"I told you I was fine." Irina said calmly as she pulled on a sweater.

"Who's the one with the MD here?" Alex asked after returning from the bathroom where she had taken the kit. Seeing her aunt scowl a bit, she smiled. "You need to take out the stitches in three to five days and I suggest you use some kind of a scar tissue gel."

"Alex…" Irina started but the younger woman didn't stop her speech to listen.

"It prevents the excessive flesh to grow on the wound. Brilliant stuff really." She picked up the cotton pads she used to sterilise the wound and ditched them into the trash bin in the bathroom.

"Alexandra…" Irina tried again a little louder.

"You should avoid pressure on the wound for the time being, so no insane missions in the near future." She went on.

Irina walked to Alex and put her hands on her shoulders. "Stop compartmentalizing. You're allowed to break down, you're allowed to smash things and you're allowed to admit that it hurts!" She shook the younger woman's shoulders a bit.

Alex pulled herself away from Irina with fire in her eyes. "Everybody keep saying that to me. You, aunt Katya, my own mother, who happens to be the queen of closed up." She said vehemently. "But I can't!"

"Yes, you can." Irina insisted.

"No, I can't. You should understand why." Alex implored Irina with her eyes to understand, which she did. Irina realized what Alex meant by not being able to break down in fear of opening a door that might never close. The door behind which memories and different emotions accompanying certain memories had been locked away safely for years.

Neatly tucking away everything that hurts is much easier than dealing with your feelings. Shutting that part of yourself off seems like the only way to stay functional, but in reality it was the only way that pushes you towards the point of no return. Irina tethered on that edge and nearly crossed that if there wasn't Katya to make her face up to her loss. And now Irina saw that Alex was on the exact same spot without realizing it herself.

"I know it's difficult, but I also know if you don't deal with your emotions, you'll lose yourself and your ability to feel." Irina saw that the younger woman was desperately trying to stay composed.

"You're speaking in nice metaphors." Alex responded sarcastically.

"I'm speaking from experience." Irina shot back emotionlessly.

"When did you break down?" The question was a rhetorical one and Alex didn't expect an answer.

"You want the first, the tenth or the hundredth time? Because I know every date and time."

Alex took a step back so her back met the wall and sank down to the floor. She pulled her knees up resting her elbows on them. Her expression was tired but still no tears were seen.

Slowly Irina knelt down before her and tucked a dark brown lock behind Alex's ear.

"I'm sorry." Alex said quietly as she dropped her eyes from Irina's in shame.

The older woman softly took hold of her chin and raised Alex's head up again and forced her to look at her. "Don't be, it's not your fault." She spoke in hushed tones.

"I shouldn't have compared our situations, they're far from equal." Irina could see that Alex was drowning in guilt.

"In some ways they are. But you truly lost them, I just walked away."

"But not willingly."

"No, not willingly." Irina shook her head softly. Without warning Alex pushed herself away from the wall and enveloped Irina in a desperate crushing hug.

"Why does this family keep losing the people they love?" It wasn't a question, but rather a sad statement.

"I don't know, darling. I don't know." Irina said with a sigh.

TBC

**Translation**: 'Ирина, 1 месяц' – Irina, 1 month


	12. Disappear

**Chapter 12 **

_Unknown location_

Arvin Sloane paced between the well-stocked desk and wide French doors, which gave a spectacular view of the ocean, clearly distraught. The course of his search had brought nothing but useless trips to him. None of the people he had met knew what else was hidden in the Rambaldi manuscripts. Make no mistakes, Sloane was absolutely positive that there was something hidden. And although he would tip his hat to Milo Rambaldi for designing such mysteries that unravelled layer by layer without any signs of stopping, the fact that he had got no closer to revealing the final endgame frustrated him to no end.

He had dedicated his whole life to this mystery and he still couldn't understand what was yet to discover. He had dedicated everything: his loyalty to his country, his friends and even his wife. But it seemed like it wasn't enough. He had to give more, he just couldn't figure out what.

Sighing, he sat down behind his desk and picked up a picture of his late wife Emily. "You should be here by my side. But you were unfairly taken away from me. If you were here, you would understand all of this. You would understand all of its glory. Even if you didn't agree with my methods, you would understand."

For a few moments Sloane just looked at the picture of his deceased wife. Then he returned it to its rightful place and picked up his phone. He dialled a familiar number and waited.

"_Hello."_

"Start Phase 3." Without any hellos or goodbyes he started and ended the call within four seconds.

He pondered whether his course of action was right or not, but dismissed it soon enough. The means would justify the cause in the end.

_Los Angeles, Jack Bristow's residence_

It was hours past midnight but Jack was still sitting in the armchair in his living room. All fatigue he had felt before had dissipated and the alcohol in his system did nothing to dull his mind. He hadn't determined yet whether it was a good thing or not.

All of his attention was locked on the photo album that sat on the coffee table before him. Jack knew that just staring at the thing would do no good, but strangely he couldn't force himself up from the armchair. He was also very aware of the fact that the responsible thing for him to do would be to take the afore-mentioned album to the office forensics team. They would be sure to find something from it to give them a clue, but still he stayed where he was: staring at the album as if looking at it long enough it would develop lips and talk to him. But if it hadn't done that during the past few hours, it wouldn't do that at all.

A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that if he kept that album from the CIA, it would be somehow sabotaging their mission to apprehend nr. 6 on the Most Wanted List. But for the moment he ignored the voice.

Jack knew the contents of the album by heart already. He knew the number of pictures: 47, he knew the exact order of them and he knew almost every detail on them because for the last four, maybe five, hours he had stared at them, every detail burning its way into his memory. He memorised the photos accidentally and it angered him.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he didn't know every picture because he was an experienced agent, but rather because on every picture there was Irina.

On every damned picture.

Jack realized hours ago that those small images would stay imprinted in his brain. He knew he would never be able to forget those little glimpses of a woman who he once proudly called his wife. They would stay there forever.

Forever mocking him.

Forever reminding him of all the betrayals.

Forever reminding him of his mistakes.

And forever reminding him of what could have been if he feelings had been real.

About two hours previous he had considered that Irina herself had left that damned photo album at his house. _'She would certainly have no problems getting past your so-called security system, Bristow.'_ The treacherous part of his brain supplied. But he soon dismissed that thought as illogical and completely unnecessary. She certainly hadn't been voluntarily offering information about her personal life to the CIA or him.

Jack had read some of her interrogation transcripts, few she allowed without reminding her only condition about communicating only with Sydney. She had been very reluctant about revealing information of her family in Russia. She had told them relatively nicely to forget any possibility of her talking to them about anything other than her organization and contacts, and then stonewalled them for the next three hours of the interrogation. Jack almost had felt sorry for the agents who were forced to coerce info from her during sessions like those. Almost.

He had nearly cracked a smile when he had read the futile attempts of the young unworldly agents to make the legendary Irina Derevko talk. Jack could imagine Irina's amusement during those sessions; they had been her only chance to find entertainment.

So Irina was one of the unlikely suspects, but then again he doubted that she would ever pass up a chance to screw with his mind. So far she hadn't.

The idea of Sloane leaving this 'present' had crossed his mind, but that thought disturbed him too much to ponder over it for too long. Somehow Sloane trying to bring Jack and Irina together was simply sickening.

Because Jack viewed this incident as someone's attempt to smooth the relationship between him and Irina. Whoever had it been, wanted them to be less hostile towards each other. Remembering the last time he and Irina met, that was not that likely. Also, this person had to be quite close to his wife-- _ex_-wife.

Jack was so enthralled by the mental debate he was having with himself that he almost missed the constant ringing of his cell phone. As he was searching for the annoyingly ringing item, he briefly wondered why anyone would be calling him at three am, which he calculated to be the estimated time.

"Bristow." He answered the phone that he had finally found.

"_Jack, it's Michael Vaughn, I'm sorry to call so late but there's a problem." _The young man apologized.

"Mr. Vaughn, can't it wait?" Jack wasn't very impressed with his daughter's admirer at that particular moment.

"_No, it can't! Sydney's missing!"_ He sounded nearly hysterical.

"What do you mean missing?" Jack unconsciously pulled all his body into full height as a wave of worry coursed through him.

"_She went for a run hours ago but hasn't returned."_

"She want for a run at three am?" Jack's tone was incredulous.

"_No, she went for a run at ten and told by that she should be back in an hour or two, three at max. She sometimes takes long runs, but it has been five hours. Something's wrong."_ Jack could hear from the man's erratic breathing that he was pacing impatiently.

"Have you tried calling her?"

"_She never takes her phone or pager with her when she goes for a late run."_ Jack decided not to ask how the younger agent knew Sydney's patterns.

"Call the Agency and then go look for her in the neighbourhood. I'll be there soon." He snapped his phone shut and headed towards the door, grabbing his keys and an overcoat.

_Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean_

Gradually coming out of unconsciousness and becoming more aware of her surroundings, Sydney felt slightly nauseous and dizzy. Her mind was still foggy and she didn't understand where she was and how had she got there. All she could grasp was the fact she was lying on something hard and cold, and she couldn't move her arms. After a few moments she deduced that she was strapped down on something and was probably in an aircraft of some kind, because everything was slightly shaking.

Her head softly banged down on the surface she was lying on and she moaned. Sydney sensed another presence through the haze she was in and felt slightly panicked. She tugged on her restraints but they were unyielding. Before she could do anything further she felt a pinprick on her arm and the darkness returned.

_Los Angeles, Joint Task Force_

It was morning, but the Joint Task Force was in full activity. Sydney's disappearance had sprung everyone into action. Jack had quickly taken control and assigned everyone with a task. Marshall and Carrie were analysing the street cameras in ten-mile radius of Vaughn's apartment with a few other technicians. Dixon and Weiss were supposed to act immediately if Marshall or Carrie found anything from the tapes. Vaughn was informing Langley at their situation.

Will had convinced Jack that he had to let him help, because he couldn't sit at home and do nothing when his best friend was missing. The argument that Sydney would do anything to help, if the situation was reversed, had made Jack concede. So, Will was situated behind a computer and reviewing Sydney's latest missions.

Everybody had a pretty good idea who had taken Sydney, but no one was brave enough to say it out loud. Whenever Jack walked out of his office, almost all eyes glanced at him, trying to see the level of concern he had, but no one could read his expression.

Dixon watched Jack cross the room and pondered slightly over Jack and Sydney's relationship. He had seen it evolve during the last two years. He had seen the progress those two had made, but also the setbacks. One of the biggest was surely when Sydney had discovered about Project Christmas. At first he couldn't understand how Jack could have done something like that to his own daughter, but after a little time he realized why. Jack Bristow wouldn't allow his daughter to be the victim; he wouldn't allow anyone hurt his daughter. When at first Project Christmas had seemed like a monstrous thing to Dixon, he soon realized that after learning that his wife had been a Russian spy, Jack had decided to do the only thing he thought that would protect his daughter.

He had also seen the ongoing progress Sydney and her father had made. He had seen how they had grown to trust each other and their decisions. They had become more comfortable around each other, but they hadn't reached the 'normal relation' status yet.

The one thing that had rocked the father-daughter relationship was clearly Irina Derevko. Although Dixon was working at SD-6 for the most time she was in custody, he had quickly learned about the mission to Kashmir, about the hope both Sydney and Jack had had for Irina and about the mission where Irina Derevko had once again duped everyone.

Dixon considered Jack as a friend. Not exactly the friend you go out to shoot pool, but rather the friend who you trust your life with. And Dixon did trust Jack to cover his back in the field. Always had, always would, because Jack had the experience most agents could almost dream of. He was simply one of the best agents Dixon knew.

While Marshall and probably many others hadn't figured out how Jack had planted the passive transmitter on Irina, Dixon had quickly figured it out from Jack's expression. Or more exactly: the lack of it. Because if nothing had happened between Jack and Irina in Panama, Jack would have had a retort to Marshall's question, but he didn't, he just gave the poor man a look that would make the bravest men to run for the hills.

When Diane had died, Dixon had tried to put himself in Jack's situation. He tried to imagine what he would feel if Diane had been a foreign spy sent there to betray him. Although, Dixon couldn't start to imagine what Jack had felt, he thought that after years of loving someone so completely as Jack had, no one could cut them out of their hearts, even after twenty years. Because of that Dixon knew that his friend still had feelings for one of the most wanted persons in the world, he just hoped it didn't destroy him like it had the last time.

As Dixon watched Jack walk through the main room, he felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of Jack Bristow's wrath.

_Unknown location_

Once again the fogginess receded and Sydney woke up from the chemically induced sleep. She felt her head pounding, probably because of whatever drug they knocked her out with. Deciding that appearing to be still unconscious would give her the advantage of more clear thoughts and actions, she kept her breathing even. During those minutes she realized that she was on solid ground because everything wasn't shaking anymore. Also noticing that she wasn't lying down anymore, but tied to a chair.

Finally she was awake enough to face whoever had captured her, she opened her eyes and pushed herself more upright. Surprisingly there was no one in the same room with her, which concerned her a little. The room didn't seem very large and was very dimly lit, so she could make out vague outlines of the walls.

Sydney heard the door being opened and craned her neck to look at them. She felt strangely unsurprised when she saw her capturer.

"Hello, Sydney."


	13. Missing Persons

**Chapter 13**

_Previously…_

_Sydney heard the door being opened and craned her neck to look at them. She felt strangely unsurprised when she saw her capturer. _

"_Hello, Sydney."_

Sydney watched as her kidnapper made his way to the middle of the room before speaking. "Sloane."

"I'm truly sorry for the conditions you were brought here but I knew you wouldn't come to me voluntarily." He spoke as a man who had all the time in the world.

"Where am I?" Sydney asked lowly, her eyes never leaving Sloane.

"That is not important at the moment." He looked at her, scanning her for mistreatment. When he found none, he continued. "I see that you weren't hurt in anyway, while transported here. That's good." His voice took a slightly paternal voice.

"What do you want from me?" Sydney asked, trepidation growing by every minute.

"All in good time. I don't trust you to try to escape as soon as you are free of your bonds, so you'll stay that way for now, but if you behave nicely, you'll be free from that chair." Sloane made a vague gesture with his hands.

"You can't keep me here!" Sydney let anger creep into her voice.

"I'll see you in the morning, Sydney." With that he walked out of the room. The door was shut and various locking mechanisms were turned on.

Sydney felt anger surge in her and she yanked at her restraints impatiently. Feeling that they were as tight as the previous ones, she stilled. When her eyes were quite adjusted to the dimness, she looked around and saw that the room wasn't as small as she had assessed. It was quite large behind her back. With disdain she realized that it was almost barren from any objects she could use as a weapon or as help in getting out of this place. If she even got out of this chair which seemed unrealistic as her wrists and ankles were tied down and the chair was bolted to the floor.

The possibility of escaping this place any time soon became smaller by every passing minute. She was completely secured to the chair in a room from which was very hard to get out of because there were no windows she could see and the door didn't have a knob on this side, she was god knows where, probably in another country in the mercy of Arvin Sloane.

As the last of her anger slipped away, Sydney felt completely helpless. She wasn't used to the feeling, because whatever situation she had got herself into, she had always had a chance of escaping, but this wasn't one of them. She felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

_Rome, Italy_

Irina stepped out of the car and immediately pulled a pair of sunglasses to cover her eyes. She subtly looked around, more out of routine that actual danger. Then she looked at the house before her. 'Gioelli' was written in bold letters over the door and through the windows on could see the quite expensive jewellery put out.

Irina tugged slightly at the jacket of her white pantsuit she was wearing. Confidently walking in she attracted quite a few glances but she ignored them and walked to one of the glass panes and carelessly looked at the different gold, silver and platinum jewellery.

The clerk who had seen her enter, a young girl, rushed to the back and reappeared after a few minutes behind a short and slightly rotund man. He seemed around fifty and that was punctuated by a receding hairline. Despite the warm weather he was wearing a dark suit and seemed to be perspiring slightly.

"Mrs. Scavo?" He asked hopefully as he approached.

Irina turned around and smiled. "Mr. Puccenelli." She stretched her hand out to shake.

"Welcome to my humble store." Salvatore Puccenelli bowed slightly, took Irina's hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry I was late, I had to convince my husband that buying a new suit for his only daughter's wedding was necessary. Alberto is so stubborn at times." She sighed and shook her head in exasperation, stressing her Italian accent.

"That's the problem with us men." Puccenelli laughed slightly.

"I've noticed that. My future son-in-law is just like my Alberto was when we got married, but Alberto keeps saying that the boy is horrible." Irina rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Fathers tend to be over-protective of their only daughters and feel that no man will ever be good enough for their little girls." He explained.

"You have children?" She inquired.

"Yes, two sons." Fatherly pride shined through his answer.

"I'm sure they're as charming as their father." Irina said leaning a little closer to the jeweller.

"Mrs. Scavo." He smiled, clearly flattered. "Now, one the phone you said you were looking for something very special.

"My only daughter is getting married and I want to give her something she would cherish her whole life." Irina explained as Puccenelli walked her through the shop and to one of the glass panes under which different kinds of jewellery was placed.

"I'm sure we can find something like that here. Were you thinking earrings, a bracelet or a necklace?" He asked turning to her when they were a little further from other customers.

"I'm not sure, but I was thinking of an antique locket or a necklace of some kind." She said.

"Then let's find the perfect wedding gift for your daughter." The next fifteen minutes were spent examining various antique necklaces, lockets and earrings. Since Puccenelli thought Mrs. Marta Scavo was a wealthy wife of a diplomat, he showed her only the best and the most beautiful jewellery he had.

"I really liked the one with the sapphire, but I'm not very sure. I've had this image in my head for quite some time. A silver locket with Greek engraving and with small diamonds framing the pictures." Irina described a piece of jewellery she knew Puccenelli had in his private collection. "I know it's probably impossible to find anything like that. You see, my husband's grandmother had a locket like that and my daughter loved it when she saw the pictures. I would pay anything to get something similar to that."

The man's face lit up as he heard her describe the locket. "Mrs. Scavo, I don't usually do this, but I happen to have a locket similar to the one you described in my private collection. Normally nothing from there is for sale, but maybe if we can agree on a proper price…" He trailed off.

"That would be absolutely fantastic!" Irina exclaimed.

"That price would be higher than others in here, because it has some sentimental value." Irina wanted to raise an eyebrow at that. The man probably had no sentimental attachments to it, he just wanted a higher price, but she played along.

"Of course, that's more than reasonable."

"Follow me then." He led her through the area, prohibited for customers. They descended some stairs, underground and came to a halt in front of a steel door, which to an untrained eye looked impossible to break. But Irina managed to recognize at least three weak points in the security system. "I don't usually don't allow customers near my personal collection but I can make an exception." He said and turned to the door. He punched in a nine-digit combination, which Irina silently memorized.

The heavy door slowly slid open and he directed her inside. There she saw various highly valuable pieces of jewellery and, much to her surprise, art. "You have a magnificent collection, Mr. Puccenelli." Irina said, actually impressed. "Do you mind, if I look around a bit?" She gave him a smile that could make ice melt and he relented.

"I guess there's no harm in looking." He shrugged good-naturedly.

Irina turned to inspect the various shelved of display. She noticed that everything was locked behind a bulletproof glass. She let her eyes glide over the room and saw wires from the shelves run to a big metallic square, which looked like an electricity junction box. Slowly walking around the room, she let her eyes glide over the display and she finally found the opals she was looking for. Not stopping, she walked further and stopped in front of a painting.

"Is that Picasso?" She asked, inspecting the painting a little closer.

"Yes, it is. You know your art, Mrs. Scavo." Puccenelli walked to her and mirrored her position.

"I have always been attracted to art, I even studied art history in university." She said and turned a little to look at the man.

"A woman of fine taste. Then you would appreciate this." He opened a box he held. Inside laid a beautiful locket with soft engravings. Soft script adorned its surface and it looked like fresh out of a fairytale. If Irina were there with the intent of buying jewellery, she would pay a high price for it, but that was not the time.

"It looks just like the one my mother-in-law has." She placed her right hand on the man's bicep as she leaned closer to look at the necklace.

"That's good." Puccenelli's smile faltered as his world started to spin. Then he started to sway on his feet and lost consciousness.

Irina watched as the man fell to the ground. Then she turned the ring on her right hand back around and closed it.

Then she rushed to the electric box and picked the lock on it. She opened the door and she switched the main switch. Hearing a faint click, she stealthily moved to the display, which held the opals. Carefully she lifted the glass and took them out. She put the opals in her bag and repositioned the glass. Then she wiped it clean from fingerprints and any possible traces and returned to the wiring box.

The displays closed again and after making sure there was no sign of foul play, Irina walked out of the safe. She rushed up the stairs and then shouted. "Help! Help!"

A store clerk rushed to her and before he could ask what was wrong she said in a rushed voice. "He just fell to the ground. I don't know what happened! One minute he was showing me the locket and the next he dropped to the ground as if he were dead. You've got to help him!" She used the distraction that people started scurrying around her in slight panic, and slipped out of the store and dropped into the waiting car.

As soon as she closed the door, the car sped off. Irina waited until they had turned a corner and then relaxed into her seat. Then she reached into her bags and pulled out one of the opals. Examining it, she saw nothing that would different it from any other opals. It was quite small and was exactly as Arthur had described it. She sighed and put it back into her bag.

_Los Angeles, the next day_

Sunlight peered through the curtain and right onto a peacefully sleeping Alex. Groaning, she turned away and tried to fall back to sleep, but no avail. Huffing she finally kicked down the covers and stood up. Stretching, she walked to the bathroom and grabbed a brush from the sink. While pulling her long dark brown hair into a ponytail she noticed that the clock was just a little after nine.

Alex had got back to Los Angeles just the previous night, more exactly during the early morning hours around three a.m. Instead of another try of sleeping off the jet lag, she headed down stairs and into the kitchen. She put on the coffee and the walked into the living room. She located her laptop and took it back with her to the kitchen. Setting it on the kitchen table, she pushed the newspapers aside and the booted it.

While waiting for it to be ready, she went through the contents of her refrigerator and wrinkled her nose in distaste. There was barely anything edible in there, but she managed to find some decent bread and other ingredients necessary for a sandwich. The coffee machine beeped, signalling that it was finished and Alex poured herself a big mug of coffee. Sitting down behind the table she sipped her coffee, grimacing as it scalded her mouth a bit.

Unexpectedly she heard her self-phone ringing unrelentingly somewhere outside the kitchen. Sighing, she stood up and started to hunt for it in her living room. Finally finding it from under some cushions. She frowned, as she had no recollection of putting it there, she flipped it open.

"Yes." She answered. "What?"

Alex listened to the speaker on the other side, her face darkening by the moment. Promptly ten seconds later she snapped her phone shut and walked to the kitchen worried. She turned the laptop facing her and typed in a few commands. While the page was loading, she dialled a familiar number.

After a flurry of phone calls, she had enough information to understand what had happened. Sydney had vanished into thin air the previous night and nobody knew anything.

Alex sat back on the chair and rubbed her temples. She figured that no one else than Arvin Sloane had kidnapped Sydney. Although her niece had many other enemies, it would have been too random for it to be anyone else. The fact that Sloane had decided on this drastic action meant that he was done waiting and decided that Sydney was the one who could help him reveal Rambaldi's endgame. Sloane had been pushed to the level that he cared for nothing or no one anymore, not even Sydney, and Alex was sure that he would do anything to solve the Rambaldi puzzle. Arvin Sloane was a loose canon with a weapon that could possibly mean the end of the world.

Picking up her phone, she dialled a number and waited it to ring. _"Hello."_

"It's me." Alex said.

"Morning, Alex." Irina said evenly.

"Did you get the opals?" She asked before returning to the serious matter at the hand.

"Yes, I have them in my possession. I'll have Julian tell Sloane that he has the missing pieces of the Mueller device and he'll hand them over to him on one condition: that he gets to see Sloane activate the device." Irina explained the plan that had been hatched long ago.

"We have a problem." Alex cut in. "Sydney is missing."

"What?" Irina asked warily.

"Probably kidnapped by Sloane. She went missing around midnight. The CIA has no information about her disappearance, but they suspect Sloane for he has the motive." Alex quickly rambled off all the information she had at that moment. "I'm going to make a few more phone calls, but since my contacts are severely outnumbered by yours, I doubt that I'll find something you won't be able to find." There was silence from both sides of the connection. "Do you think he might harm her?" Alex asked tentatively.

"I don't think it's likely." Irina said evenly. "He thinks she's the Chosen One and will help him reach his goal. She will be unharmed but not safe with him."

"Can you get in touch with Julian?" The younger woman asked.

"Yes, I'll contact him. Our safety protocols aren't that important anymore. As long as Sloane was still tentative about acquiring information about Rambaldi and his works, it was important that Julian would not be connected to me in any way. But now when Sloane has obviously got impatient and irregular, it doesn't matter anymore. He won't be putting that much focus on security breaches anymore."

"Alright. I'll try to gather as much information as I can." Alex was already mentally cataloguing the people who she would contact first.

"Good. When you find out something, call your mother." With that Irina ended the call, without as much as a goodbye.

"What? Irina?" Alex spoke to the dial tone in obvious confusion. She realized that her aunt had hung up on her and pulled the device from her ear. She stared at it for a while and then tossed it on the table. Turning back to the laptop she started typing furiously.

_Unknown location_

Someone knocked on the wooden door of Sloane's temporary office. He looked up from his computer and called whoever was on the other side to come in. When he saw his young colleague, he leaned back in his chair and entwined his fingers, leaning his chin on them.

"Mr. Sark. What can I do for you?" He asked in a satisfied voice.

"Mr. Sloane," Julian said respectably, for he was known for his impeccable manners. "I don't believe kidnapping Sydney Bristow was in our agenda. At least not at such an early stages of our investigation." He said after he had walked to the older man's desk and stood in front of it.

The man's straightforwardness surprised the older man for a second. "I did what was necessary. Sydney was becoming too much of a risk for me. I have no doubt that she would have caught up with me at some point, possibly before our investigation would be finished and that would have been a great loss. I could not allow that. Besides I firmly believe that she is the key to discovering Rambaldi's endgame." Sloane explained in an almost soothing tone.

"You said that Sydney and Jack are hindered by their ties to the CIA and would not be an obstacle in our way." Julian challenged.

"It is true that Sydney and her father are tied down by the CIA, but I could not allow her to become a potential threat to me when we're so close to discovering the endgame."

"That may be true, but you surely know that Sydney always seems to have quite a cavalry that has come to her rescue every time."

"They have no idea where she is and even if they suspect me, then they won't find me." Sloane waved his hand dismissively.

"I hope you're sure about that." Julian said bowing his head slightly and then turned to leave. "They have had quite a success at that particular activity."

Ignoring the younger man's comment, Sloane stopped him. "Mr. Sark, would you be so kind and take Sydney her dinner. She must be hungry."

"I don't believe she will eat anything offered from us." Julian narrowed eyes slightly.

"She will eventually." Sloane said decisively, making Julian wonder how long would Sloane be willing to keep Sydney there against her will.

Julian took the prepared supper from the cook that had somehow travelled with Sloane and headed to the room where she was detained. Julian viewed the security measures around the room and saw that it would be almost impossible to get past those without the proper codes for the mechanical locks.

The door finally opened and Julian carried the tray inside. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Looking around the room he saw Sydney handcuffed to a metal chair in the middle of the room. She looked quite confused and she closed her eyes at the sudden bright light that filled the room.

The room itself was bare of any other objects that the chair and even that was secured to the floor. So Sloane had learned his lesson, Julian smirked internally.

Sydney snapped her head up and looked at the newcomer. When she realized who it was she once again felt resigned instead of surprised. It made perfect sense that Sark was working with Sloane. A dog looking for a new master.

"Good evening, Ms Bristow." Julian said, offering her a little information.

"Sark." Sydney said. She straightened her back and lifted her chin in defiance.

"Would you want some dinner?" He lifted the tray just a bit.

Sydney eyed it for a second. She had to admit, her stomach demanded food and the offering looked delicious at that moment, but she wouldn't eat anything given to her by Sloane or Sark. Her training wouldn't allow that and neither would her pride. "No thank you." She mustered as much malice into those words as she could.

"I understand your reluctance to accept anything offered from me," Julian set down the tray on the floor. "But I must advise you to eat and gather your strength."

Sydney frowned a little at the tone of his voice. The true gentleness of his voice instead of the usual sarcasm was startling. She didn't say anything, just stared at him. "At least have some water. You know you need it." Julian pressed.

Sydney watched as he took the glass from the tray and walked over to her. "Don't be stubborn, Sydney. You'll need all of your strength." He lifted the glass to her lips, half expecting her to send him to hell.

Much to his surprise Sydney relented and drank the offered water. When she was done he stepped back. "Once again: do you wish dinner." Julian tilted his head towards the tray.

"What I want is to be let free." Sydney hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, but that is not possible. Not yet." He shook his head.

"Where am I?" She asked another question with the same hostility.

"I cannot give you that answer, but I advise you to get some rest. You'll need it." With that he picked up the tray and walked out of the room.

"Wait-" Sydney started but the door already slammed shut and bolts were pushed into place.

Sydney sighed in desperation and slumped back into her chair. Slowly wiggling her wrists and ankles in their bonds, she hoped that circulation wouldn't be completely cut off.

Craning her neck both sides, she tried to lessen the tension and also look around in the room. After seeing that there was only one room in and out of the room once again, she closed her eyes and groaned softly.

Sydney had no idea what Sloane might want to do with her. She doubted that she would be leaving this place alive, if Sloane had his way. He might show his twisted version of fatherly care, but it was clear that he wouldn't hesitate ending her life if it meant having his way.

_Two days later, CIA Joint Task Force_

After two days of searching any clues to Sydney's whereabouts there was nothing to go on. No leads, no traces – no nothing. It had frustrated the team unbearably.

Vaughn felt mentally and physically exhausted but he refused to rest. Instead he had taken his anger out on a poor gym bag in the exercising area.

Jack on the other hand was looking as serene as ever, at least on the outside. Vaughn would have trouble believing that Jack felt any worry at all, if he hadn't seen the worry in Jack's eyes during the early morning hours, but even that had been covered up very quickly.

"Vaughn!"

Weiss and Will rushing to him shook him out of his reverie.

"What?" Vaughn asked puzzled.

"Look." The man thrust a folder to Vaughn's hands. He opened it and let his eyes glide over the words.

"Is this legit?" He looked up at Will.

"Seems that way." He barely got to finish his sentence before Vaughn half-ran to Jack's office.

Forgetting knocking he burst into his office, earning himself a death glare from Jack who was on the phone. He ended the call and stood up. "I already heard." He said and walked around his desk. "Briefing room in fifteen minutes." Grabbing the sheet from Vaughn's hands, Jack ordered the younger man who just nodded.

Fifteen minutes later all agents who combined the lead team of the Task Force were gathered in the briefing room.

"Barely half an hour ago we received Intel revealing that our French allies have apprehended a man wanted for many crimes in various countries in Europe. For a more lenient punishment he agreed to tell everything without restrictions." Jack began as the last agent entered. "For the guaranteed safety of his daughter he revealed information which was instantly sent to us." He paused. "For the past year he has been working for Arvin Sloane, more intensively during these past months. He said he knows where Sloane, his artefacts and Sydney is located."

"He just offered that kind of information on a silver plate?" Kendall asked suspiciously.

"Apparently he wants his daughter to be free of all his crimes and for her to have a safe life. How much of that is true, no one can tell." Jack said in a neutral voice.

"Has the information been confirmed by the French authorities?" Dixon asked.

"No, they just passed on the Intel. They have no intention of investigating it further, at least not before everything they want from his has been revealed." Jack responded.

"What if this a set-up? Someone conveniently is apprehended and they offer all of their contacts and possessions to authorities." Kendall jibed sarcastically, as he flipped through the file in front of him.

"This is the biggest lead we have on Sydney's disappearance and on Sloane's location. I believe we should go on this info and risk with the chance that it is a trap." Jack said decisively.

"Do we have a specific location?" Weiss asked.

"Not yet, Marshall's working on it-" Jack couldn't finish his sentence because the aforementioned man practically flew through the door.

"I've got it!" Marshall was too excited to see the curious looks on the agents' faces at his sudden entrance.

"The exact location?" Jack questioned as he took the file the small man offered him.

"Yes, it's in Taiwan." Marshall tried to catch his breath.

"_Marshall, Will, you're our satellite support from Los Angeles. Vaughn, Weiss, Dixon: the plane leaves in an hour." Jack ordered._


	14. Breaking and Entering

**Chapter 14**

_Los Angeles_

Alex steered her car through the traffic on the freeway. All those cars seemed to be moving in a snail's pace to her. When a red light replaced a green one, she hit the breaks disappointedly. While waiting for the damned light to change again, she grabbed her phone from the passenger seat and hit speed dial.

After four rings, it was picked up. "Your ticket and passport are waiting for you at the airport." Elena Derevko started without introductions.

"If I can get through this horrid traffic, I'll even be on time." Alex glanced at the rear way mirror and saw that the line behind her had grown from ten to twenty.

"You're never on time Alex." Her mother's slightly amused sentence did nothing to calm her.

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that." The red light finally turned green. "Finally." She accelerated and passed a few cars from a five-inch distance. "Have you heard from Irina?" Alex asked.

"Yes, I didn't exactly understand what she said, but she contacted with Julian and my sister doesn't want to wait, but rather skin Sloane alive and immediately." Elena huffed.

"I find no problem with that plan." Alex said innocently.

"Well, I do. Sloane's present location is very deserted and highly protected. Julian said that he had a small army of heavily armed men." The older woman said evenly.

"Since when has that situation been a problem to you, mother?" Alex asked coyly.

"I'm not going to get into that debate with you." Elena said determinedly, because she knew that getting into an argument with her daughter on that subject would be quite disturbing.

"We'll discuss that later." Alex said with a voice that held promise of a conversation in the near future. "Tell me exactly where am I going?" She changed the subject.

"Taiwan." Her mother answered.

_Over the Indian Ocean, some hours later_

Jack laid out a huge map on the floor of the compartment, as it was the only place large enough. "Alright. This is the general area." He motioned his hand to the middle of the map.

"It seems rather barren." Dixon commented.

"It is. There's not a populated place in a twenty mile vicinity, which is rare." Jack agreed.

"Do we have a more precise map?" Vaughn asked.

"Not right now. When we land, Marshall will send us the exact coordinates and satellite images." Jack explained.

"What's our escape route?" Dixon inquired and looked dutifully as Jack explained it to the team.

_Taiwan, unspecified location_

Irina was immersed in a set of area maps. She looked at them, drawing lines and understanding locations in her mind. Her dedication to understanding the maps however didn't cloud her and she heard the warehouse door to her left creak open.

Making no movement indication that she heard anything, she kept her head down and seemingly still reading the papers in front of her, while actually looking at the newcomer. Soon enough Irina recognized the familiar gait of her sister and relaxed back into her seat.

"Those the plans?" Katya asked, getting right to the point.

"Yes, Julian just sent them." Irina looked at her sister.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" Katya asked as she sat next to her.

"I won't leave Sydney at the mercy of Arvin Sloane." Irina's tone was resolute and allowed no arguments.

Katya merely nodded and dragged some of the maps nearer to her. "Where is the easiest entrance point?" She ignored the thankful look Irina gave her; they both had reputations to hold.

Outside Sloane's facilities

"Raptor to Base Camp, we're in position." Jack said through the com links.

"_Base Camp to Raptor, hear you loud and clear."_ He heard Marshall answer him.

"Any movement around us?" Jack asked as he motioned for Weiss and Vaughn to spread out.

"_None, move on according to plan."_

"Move in, we're in the clear." Jack ordered his companions.

The four men made their way to the set of warehouses in the distance of 400 yards. Entering the sewage tunnels, as it was the best entryway they could find at such short notice, Jack clamped down the memory of Kashmir and another mission a few months back.

Once inside the facility, they encountered three guards, who they took down quietly without any noise. Moving along a dark corridor they followed Marshall's instructions from Los Angeles. When the hallway came to it's end, Jack motioned for his team to stop.

"_Sydney's right around the corner in a cell. There are two guards in front of the door."_ Marshall explained.

Jack motioned for Dixon to move with him and within merely seven seconds both guards slumped to the ground unconscious. They moved to the door, but saw that there was a mechanical locking system they were completely unaware of.

"Marshall, did Henderson say anything about the alarm system on the door?" Jack asked the man.

"_What alarm system?"_ Was his only response.

"It's probably connected to some alarm system and will alert everyone if we try to interfere." Dixon said as he examined the door closer.

"There has to be some way to go around it without disturbing the alarms." Vaughn said.

"For that you need this."

All men turned around swiftly training their guns on the speaker. She held her hands up in to show them she wasn't a threat.

"Your guy won't be able to surpass the system from LA." Alex spoke calmly; very aware of the fact the she was in the shooting range of four high-powered rifles.

"Who are you?" Vaughn asked, tightening the grip he had on his weapon.

"The help you need." She answered.

"You work for Sloane?" Jack asked icily.

"No, I don't." Alex answered, hiding her smile, as she was face-to-face with her aunt's husband.

"Then why are you here?" Dixon asked suspiciously.

"The same reason you are: separate Sydney from the little troll." Alex said in an even tone.

If the situation had been different, it would have earned a smile from Vaughn. "How do we know you're not working for Sloane?"

"If I was, you'd be either dead or defeated by his men by now." Alex decided she had enough of being the sitting duck. "Listen to me, it won't be long until Sloane figures that there are intruders to his facilities, we need to work fast." She left out that the four men weren't the only intruders to this place.

"Fine." Jack agreed after a few moments of silence and lowered his weapon, prompting the other agents to do the same.

"You're sure it will go around the system without activating it?" Weiss asked with a little trepidation as he saw the young woman move to the door, digging out a small device that looked like an MP3-player.

"There's only one way to find out." She said shrugging her shoulders and placed the machine to the control panel.

Luckily no alarms were heard and after waiting a few minutes, Alex took the device back and tried the door. It relented and opened. She took a flashlight from her pocket and lighted the room behind the door. With relief she saw Sydney, bound and disoriented, but still alive.

Alex let the four men into the room and watched as they worked on freeing her.

"Dad?" Sydney slowly recognized one of the dark figures.

"We'll get you out of here in no time." He took her hand in his after freeing it from the bonds that held her to the chair. When Sydney was completely free, she hugged her father with as much fierceness as she could muster. Before any of them could make any other moves, four guards entered the room, quickly followed by Julian Sark.

"Make no move." He ordered as the guards spilled across the room. One stood behind Alex, jabbing a gun to her ribs. The other three aimed their guns at the intruders.

"Sark." Jack said as he moved slightly in front of Sydney.

Julian nodded with a smirk and then quickly fired five round, each hitting their targets. The CIA agents watched in amazement as three of the guards slumped to the ground bleeding.

Alex quickly disarmed the fourth guard behind her and then rendered him unconscious. "Took you long enough." She tossed Julian's way as she took the guard's weapon.

"It would have helped if any of you would have informed me of the time you'd be arriving." He jabbed back. They didn't have any time to continue their banter as Jack cut in, quite angry.

"What is going on here?" He asked thunderously as he stood up more properly reaching for his gun. He and Julian aimed their guns at each other within seconds.

"I would advise you to lower your weapon, Mr. Bristow as I have no wish to shoot you, but I know you wouldn't listen to me." Julian said with a smirk.

"You're outnumbered, Sark." Jack said calmly indicating to his companions.

"Oh, for the love of God." Alex huffed and moved between the two men. "Would you both stamp down you testosterone levels for one moment." She looked pointedly at both men, almost scolding them. "We're in a building with over twenty guards with orders to shoot you on sight and Arvin Sloane who hasn't been in a forgiving mood lately. So if you want to defeat him, we'll have to work together."

"Who are you?" Jack asked from the lithe woman in front of him.

"Someone who has quite a few ties to you, but for now you can call me Alex." She answered, softening her tone of voice. "Lower your weapons, he's not going to shoot you." She indicated towards Julian who was watching her with clear amusement.

"I somehow doubt that." Vaughn said with an amount of sarcasm in his voice.

"Mr. Vaughn, I know for sure that he has no wish to kill you, never has, never will." Alex turned to the young agent.

"Then why-" Vaughn started, but was cut off by Alex.

"Are we going to stay here arguing or are we going to find Sloane?"

Jack nodded and lowered his weapon. "If either of you makes one wrong move…" He trailed off.

"You'll shoot me to Swiss cheese?" Alex raised her eyebrow. "I don't think so, Jack." She smiled.

"How do you know our names?" Weiss asked the woman.

"I'll answer that later." Alex said and then reached into her back bag. Pulling out an earpiece, she handed it to Julian. Then she pulled out a small palm computer and typed a few quick commands. "Where's Sloane now?" She asked Julian.

"In the lab." He answered.

Alex turned on her earpiece and Julian did the same. "We've got to spread out, that way it'll be easier." She turned to the only other female in the room. "Sydney, can you walk?" She asked softly as she neared her.

Sydney watched the other woman curiously; unable to understand why did she look so familiar.

"I'm fine." She said and stood up a little shakily. Suspiciously she looked at Alex who she helped her up.

"We need to spread out. Sloane still here, if you want to catch him." Alex explained rushed. "Mr. Bristow will you promise me not to shoot Julian there when he goes with you as he knows this building best?" She ignored the snort she hear from her cousin and looked directly at Jack.

When the older agent looked at her disbelievingly, she continued. "He knows where everything is, but moving in one group would cause unnecessary attention. Since I doubt you would let me and Julian leave here without any of you accompanying us, I offer that we divide into two groups. Mr. Weiss and Mr. Dixon would be coming with me and you, Miss Bristow and Mr. Vaughn would go with Julian."

Jack knew that if they had any real chance of apprehending Sloane then this would be it. And this mysterious woman was offering them that opportunity. That could of course mean she would be leading them straight into a trap but they did outnumber the two. He was willing to use their help until Sloane was caught and then he could find out why this girl offered her and Sark's help.

"If you try anything, they will be ordered to stop you at any cost." Jack said gravely, looking at Alex. "That also goes to you Sark." He turned to the man.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." He glanced down.

"We need to move now." Alex said once again.

"Wait! Isn't there any surveillance cameras here?" Vaughn asked.

"They're taken care of." Julian said, knowing they would understand it as if he disabled them.

"Let's go." Jack nodded.

Irina landed on her feet with a soft thump. Looking around she thankfully didn't see any guards. Picking up her bag, she jogged down the dim hallway, away from the air vent she had just exited. She had managed to make it about halfway down the corridor when she encountered a guard. Without blinking she pulled out her gun and shot him. She didn't however see the second guard and he knocked the gun out of her hands after she had fired the shot. A short fight ensued for Irina quickly gained the upper hand and rendered the man unconscious.

Again she moved and soon found her destination. She tried the door but not surprisingly it was locked. Making quick work on the lock, she entered Sloane's office. Quickly deducing he wasn't in the room, she made her way to the large desk. Walking around it and sitting, she found the security cameras' feed. Within a few minutes she had put the cameras on loop and rounded the actual surveillance to her small palm pilot.

Exiting the office, she carefully moved through the labyrinth of hallways. The guards she had met were all unconscious of dead, never having time to report her presence in the building. Irina heard cracking from her earpiece, then Elena's voice.

"_Irina, what's your status?"_ She sounded vaguely out of breath.

"East wing of the building." Irina answered quickly and quietly.

"_Did you cut the surveillance?" _

"Affirmative." She peered around a corner, seeing a larger group of guards a hundred metres from her.

"_The north wing is secured."_ They heard Katya murmur over the link.

"Copy that. Moving to the laboratory area." Irina said. "Going radio-silent." She ended the connection and dropped her bag silently, preparing herself for the fight that was sure to come for she couldn't unarm all those guards at once from that distance. And she needed to get to that laboratory, unfortunately there was only on entrance point. Six heavily armed men who from afar seemed to be fit to give Irina quite a fight guarded that.

Aiming her gun, she managed to shoot three before the others became alert of her presence. She got to shoot one more before dropping the gun and engaging herself into a fight with the remaining two.

Irina had been trained to fight up to six opponents at once and she was good at that, but these opponents weren't made of wood. She had to admit the when one of them got the opening he needed and delivered a kick to her ribs that made her lose her balance and fall backwards on the hard concrete floor. She braced herself on the floor with her hands, so she would fall completely but still she was at a disadvantage.

Irina didn't have the time to retaliate as she felt something hard hitting the back of her head and she succumbed to darkness.


	15. Now That's Just Great

**Chapter 15**

_The clock on the mantelpiece showed the time 4:54. Irina paced in the living room, flinching ever so lightly as the lightning struck. She looked worriedly outside and then resumed her pacing. For her ministrations she felt a sharp kick to her side. _

"_I'm sorry, but your father's making me insane." She apologized to her rounded stomach as she finally settled on the couch, lifting up her feet on the coffee table. "Damn you, Jack Bristow." She cursed, clearly frustrated, and hit the throw cushion next to her. _

_Until three hours past midnight Irina had tried to fall asleep, but sleep didn't come that easily anymore whenever Jack wasn't next to her. She'd rather be damned if she ever admitted that to anyone, but she missed the safety the man bore with himself. _

_It was odd how easily Irina sometimes forget why she was married to him, especially when he talked to her large abdomen or brought her the midnight snacks she had been craving for during her pregnancy. Everything felt so real that it was easy to pretend that she wasn't a foreign spy sent to America to spy on him. _

_Irina looked around the small but cosy apartment they lived in. They were in Virginia but Irina knew that Jack was eligible for a promotion soon and that probably meant moving to Los Angeles. _

_She was shaken out of her thoughts as she heard the lock being turned in the front door. Irina removed her feet from the table and stood up, mustering as much grace as she could. She watched as her husband walked into the living room, oblivious to her presence. Irina felt with disdain that her anger was melting into sheer happiness of his return. _

_Jack dropped his suitcase on the floor and slowly took his drench coat off. Moving slowly he tried to make as little noise as possible. Seeing his wife standing in the middle of the living room made his attempts futile. _

"_Laura-" He started, but was cut of by Irina, who had regained her anger. _

"_Where the hell were you?" She demanded. "You were supposed to be back by yesterday morning."_

"_I'm sorry but-" Jack gave another useless attempt. _

"_But what? I've been worrying myself sick about you. Do you know how many awful thoughts crossed my mind?" Irina asked vehemently. _

_Before he could answer the lightning struck, bathing the room in light. For the first time since he walked through the door, Irina really saw Jack's appearance. He was heavily leaning on one leg, holding on to the wall for support. He looked haggard and Irina saw various bruises covering his face, she could only imagine what he looked underneath his clothes. _

"_Oh my God, Jack. What happened?" She rushed towards him, fighting the urge to hug him fiercely. _

"_Nothing." He tried to dismiss his injuries. _

_  
"This doesn't look as nothing." Irina touched his cheek gently. She softened her voice but it still held sternness. _

"_Everything didn't go according to plan." Jack said cryptically. _

_Irina fought the wish to roll her eyes at him and helped him to the couch. He dropped heavily on it and his head lolled back as much of his strength had dissipated long ago. _

_Carefully and determinedly Irina started to remove his clothing. Jack tried to protest but Irina silenced him with a kiss. He softly grabbed her elbows and pulled her to his lap. Irina tried to keep any additional weight off him by bracing her hands on the back of the sofa. _

"_I missed you," Jack whispered into her hair. _

"_I missed you too." Irina pulled back and looked into his eyes. She broke the contact as she felt movement in her stomach. Letting out a small laugh, she said. "We both missed you." _

_Jack put his hand on her abdomen and felt his unborn child deliver a solid punch every once in a while. "I'm sorry I didn't get here earlier." He said regretfully. _

"_Just don't leave us alone for so long." Irina said burying her hands in his hair. _

"_Promise." He kissed her. _

_After a few minutes Irina stood up and held her hand out for her husband who took it gratefully. She led him to their bedroom and they had spent the rest of the night and most of the morning in each other's arms. _

_Jack had told Irina about their mission that had gone awry and the events that had led to his capture and interrogation without going to any details but seeing the angry marks on his body, Irina knew that Jack had endured a lot more than he let on. She had made him promise that he would not put himself in a situation that might endanger him anymore. He had promised her that and probably meant it, but deep down Irina knew he was lying: he, as herself, thrived on adrenaline and danger. _

_She just hoped that his soon-to-be-born daughter would make him more cautious. _

Years later when she was in the world by herself, stripped of her family, country and beliefs, Irina told herself that she had never promised him that she would stay out of harms way. So she had acted savagely and on instinct. Only some time later she found that methodical work brought much more reward that spontaneous.

From then on she almost never lost her cool and always mapped out all her moves thoroughly. And waking up to being tied to a chair made Irina wish she had been more careful than she had been.

Irina kept her eyes closed and her head down as she became conscious. She waited until she could feel that she was in control of her limbs again. She tried to assess her situation but it had no positive points. All she realized was that she was restrained to a chair, and due to the absolute silence, she couldn't figure out where she was or with whom.

Deciding that faking unconsciousness wouldn't help her any way, she lifted her head and looked straight into the eyes of Arvin Sloane.

"Hello, Irina." He made no threatening moves, just on the contrary. He leaned back comfortably on the sofa in his office.

"Arvin." Irina said blandly, while flexing her hands, but being held back by the restraints.

"I wondered when you would be coming for me yourself. I must confess, I thought that you would hold out a little longer." He smirked slightly, very pleased with himself.

"And why is that." She asked with no apparent interest.

"You know that I would never hurt Sydney and you made showed no interest when she worked at SD-6 for me for over seven years." Sloane answered smoothly. "And I hoped my business associates would hold you up for some time." He added.

"So it was you who put a contract on my head." Irina showed no surprise. "I thought you had better contacts, Arvin." She mocked slightly.

Sloane paid no heed to her bait. "Yet, here you are alone." He gestured with his hands.

Irina frowned inwardly. It was very likely Sloane knew she wasn't alone there and was just toying with her or he was actually unaware of the others in the building. Truthfully she herself was unsure of the number of intruders. It was likely that the CIA rescue team had also arrived here, but she wasn't positive. Until she knew for sure she had to rely on her instincts.

"Do you really think you can comprehend the full meaning of Rambaldi's works?" She changed the subject. "Even if you manage to activate the machine, you won't be able to control it."

"I won't pretend that I understand everything, but in time I will know enough. Until then I have Sydney, who Rambaldi wrote so much about." Sloane responded calmly. "And right now, I have you."

The arrogance in his voice made Irina seethe. "And what makes you think that I would be interested in helping you. The trouble you have caused me doesn't make me very cooperative."

"Oh, you will be more than helpful. I have never hurt Sydney deliberately but if that would make you more willing to help, I may overlook that." The threat in his words worried Irina.

Alex led Dixon and Weiss through the facility and hadn't encountered trouble yet. Her companions were silent and she wasn't eager to converse either. After making yet another sharp turn around a corner, Alex suddenly held up her hand signalling the other two agents to stop. She looked around, then turned to her left and tried the door handle on the door that had previously slipped both Weiss' and Dixon's surveillance. As expected the door wasn't open, so Alex reached up and pulled two hairpin-like objects out of her hair. The two men realized that they were lock-picking instruments and shared a half-amused look. The woman's hair stayed as they were, being pulled into a tight bun, even after she pulled the objects out, then she kneeled on one knee before the door and turned her attention to the lock.

Alex had noticed the look the men had shared and spoke, her eyes never leaving her task. "What's so amusing? One has to be inventive in such places." The door made a familiar sound and Alex put the lock picks back in her hair. Standing up she continued. "I didn't expect Sloane to have traditional locks here, but I wasn't willing to risk it." With that she pulled out a handgun from the small of her back and turned the doorknob, which now gave in.

Slowly she moved into the room, the two men hot on her heels. The room itself seemed like a control centre. It contained at least three dozen computers and unaccountable amount of other surveillance equipment.

"Impressive." Alex murmured to herself. Looking around she instructed Dixon to close the door and then she moved to one of the computers.

She started typing quickly and concentrated on the amounts of information in front of her. Alex heard crackling on the other side of her earpiece and listened very carefully, but making no outwards signs that she had heard anything.

"Alexandra, I know you're not alone so listen." She heard her mother's instructions.

"Irina went radio silent but she was supposed to be back on once she got to the lab. It has been ten minutes. We must assume, she was discovered. Take your escorts to the laboratory and don't draw any attention to yourself. We'll meet you and Julian there." Alex comprehended the info and realized what she had to do.

At that precise moment Dixon started asking questions. "Why was it necessary to come here?" He looked at the woman suspiciously.

"This is Sloane's control centre. From here we can probably monitor the whole building." She explained calmly.

"I thought Sark disabled the cameras?" It was a half question from Dixon who now looked around in the room.

"He never said that he disabled them." Two sets of eyes snapped to her. "He said that they were taken care of, which they have been, or we wouldn't have got this far."

"I don't know what game are you playing here, but you should know it won't work." Dixon's harsh words made Alex look at him.

She didn't seem fazed by his threat and spoke mollified. "I'm not playing any games, I'm just trying to bring Sloane down, just like you are. Joining our efforts seemed like a decent idea."

"And we are just supposed to believe that you are here alone on coincidence?" Weiss asked incredulously.

"I never said I was alone." She said cryptically with a trace of a smile.

"Who else is here?" Dixon asked tightening his grip on his gun as if she was about to attack any minute.

"We need to get to the laboratory and destroy Sloane's new little toy. For that we need as much manpower as possible. Contact the others and tell them to meet us outside the lab." Alex ignored his question.

"We need to know who else is here." Dixon said with authority.

"No, you want to know, there's a difference." Alex responded and brushed pass him. "We need to get moving before we're spotted. Contact them." She stressed the last part. "Please." Her tone was gentler.

Grudgingly Dixon made contact with Jack while Weiss tried to figure why the young woman's sounded so familiar to him.

Julian walked in front of Jack who was holding him at gunpoint and Vaughn who was supporting Sydney for she didn't have the complete control of her footing from being tied down so long.

"You said Sloane had a laboratory here. Why?" Sydney asked Julian.

"Do I really need to tell you, Sydney?" He asked back. When he received a glare for his humour, he answered. "Il Dire."

"'The Telling'. It's here?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes." He offered no other explanation.

"Has he activated it?" Vaughn asked warily.

"No, he tried but then discovered there were pieces missing." He answered dodging.

"I thought that he had all 47 pieces." Sydney said, confused as she remembered her mother's words at the ice rink.

"He does have forty seven pieces but there were additional parts that he wasn't aware of." Julian explained.

Jack's next question was cut off as they neared the lab and Julian motioned them to stand still. He peered around the corner and viewed the lab door. Frowning, he saw that the guards who had been there an hour ago had been replaced although the replacing should have taken place four hours later.

"Something's wrong." He said as he turned back to his companions.

"What do you mean-" Sydney started but quieted when they heard movement behind their backs. Jack and Vaughn drew their weapons while Sydney backed up a bit.

To their relief they saw Dixon and Weiss coming around the corner with Alex. Ignoring the others, Alex walked straight to Julian and looked around the corner.

"The guards have been replaced." She said quietly as they pulled back. "That means she was either caught or spotted."

"Who was caught?" Jack asked sternly.

Paying no attention to him, Alex continued. "We need to get to the lab now, because soon they'll find that Sydney has been released and that will take our only advantage."

"I asked who was caught." Jack's tone revealed impatience and Alex decided that honesty would not be so bad.

"Your wife." She answered looking him straight in the eye.

TBC


End file.
